


My version of Game of Thrones season 8

by DeerWorks



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-05-16 11:09:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 56,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19316983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeerWorks/pseuds/DeerWorks
Summary: Not a fan of season 8. Jonerys is a primary relationship in this fic but this isn't solely a Jonerys fanfic. None of these characters belong to me, they're property of George RR Martin and HBO.





	1. Episode 1: Winter Is Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Daenerys arrive at Winterfell, old friends reunite, Winterfell receives a guest

After receiving word of the fall of Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, Edd gathered all the men in Castle Black and sent a raven to the Shadow Tower for everyone to fall back to Winterfell. There was no use in manning a fallen wall. Even so, as Lord Commander Edd needed to assess the damage done to Eastwatch and finding any men he could to help fight the dead. It was truly a sight to behold and certainly not a pleasant one. “What the shit could have done this?” Edd asked to himself. “Let’s get to searching men, we might have some bodies to burn.” Edd ordered his men to start looking under the rubble to find any men, alive or dead. Any man found means less in the army of the dead. 

Edd could hear the faint groans of someone most certainly alive. “Are you even fuckin’ trying to get out, it’s like you wanna fuckin’ die!” Edd heard the familiar voice of Tormund. “When you’ve come back as much as I have, eventually you just want to stay in that forever darkness.” It was a voice that Edd could not recall but any voices were good. After tying up the horses he and his men began to motion towards the voices. “Tormund!” Tormund drew his blade but quickly returned it to his belt when he saw who was calling his name. “It’s been a while crow,” Tormund said giving a quick friendly embrace patting him on the back. “I see you brought a whole flock of crows,” Tormund said observing the men. “Good, need some help with this one,” he said pointing his thumb behind him. Edd saw a older man missing one eye covered by an eyepatch. He thought he would most certainly be unable to move, it was by some miracle that he was still sucking air. He motioned his men over to help him lift, after they were able to remove the block of ice it was baffling to see the man was even able to move let alone stand on his own two feet holding his side. 

He was about to thank them when as if it had been waiting for them, strong gusts of wind began the push in their direction encompassing them in snow removing any visibility. Tormund’s eyes began to widen as he knew what came with the storm and it wasn’t just an army of walking dead men they had to worry about anymore. Now they had the skies and all of Winterfell will be destroyed if they’re not warned. “Circle up!” Edd screamed but his men were too spread out and the storm was far too thick for them to find each other and slowly one by one they were picked off. Tormund holding Beric over his shoulders backed into another and turned around ready to strike as did the other, they both stopped realizing it was Edd. 

Edd’s eyes widened at a sudden pain in his stomach as he looking down to see an icy blade sticking out of it. He looked to Tormund with his mouth gaping in shock. Edd began coughing up blood, any words he tried to muster were halted by the gargling of blood pouring out of his mouth. He fell to the ground as Tormund looked forward at the blue eyes in the mist. He let Beric off his shoulder now, “Get on a horse and get back to Winterfell to warn Jon, I’m gonna kill this fucker,” some force guided Beric that had been guiding him for his entire existence as he ignited his sword and ran, he knew Tormund wouldn’t be able to survive as the Lord of Light only needed him to keep Beric alive for whatever purpose he had to serve. He ran through the mist, guided by the panicked sounds of horses. He sliced every wight that charged him and they immediately fell and began squirming on the ground as they burned to their second death. 

When he finally reached a horse and mounted it he began to ride away looking back and seeing Tormund slicing every wight that came near, until it was just him and a white walker, he began swinging wildly with the white walker dodging every move he sent, finally disarming Tormund and taking him by the hair cutting his head off like it was cake. He served his purpose and he served his purpose well, Beric only hoped he could do the same.

 

 

ARYA

Arya sat atop the highest tower of Winterfell overlooking the army marching toward the castle. She’d been informed of the size of the army but seeing it up close was truly something to behold, it stretched as far as the eye could see as the men marched in perfect formation. She longed to descend from the tower and tackle her brother right off his horse and embrace him until he couldn’t breath and all the water from her body had exited through her eyes. 

But if the legends were true, Daenerys Targaryen was the owner of three full grown dragons, a sight she had longed to see for as long as she had been able to recognize the meaning of words. As if they could hear her thoughts she heard the mighty roar she had only heard in her dreams. The common folk below screamed but Arya watched in awe as the dragons swooped down from above the clouds just flying just above the tower and then back up into the clouds. 

After she could no longer make out the shadows of the dragons in the clouds above she returned her eyes to the army and began searching for her brother. She found the dragon queen immediately as she stood out from the rest. She was sporting a fluffy coat as white as the hair on her head. Looking to her left she could see the unmistakable black head of hair of her brother Jon. His hair tied back the way father used to and wearing brown cloak with wolf fur on the shoulders. The queen and Jon seemed to be riding side by side which was a good sign meaning that their alliance must be strong. 

Arya decided to hold on a little while longer to reunite with her brother as he would be immediately pulled away inorder to deal with his duties. She would wait until he was free from those duties and able to have a good long conversation. She had so much she longed to tell him and she was sure he would have some exciting tales of his own.

 

JON

Jon had expected their arrival in the North to be poorly received but the looks Daenerys was getting were worse than he had anticipated. They were mixes of disgust, anger, hatred, and far more undesirable emotions. He looked over to his queen to find she wasn’t looking at any of them and just straightforward to the castle of Winterfell. Jon longed to be back on the boat in her chambers, he’d rarely spent any time in his own chambers and waking up with her head resting on his chest every morning was something he never got tired of. And now here he is, back in this shit world that he has to protect his people chose him to do so. He was starting to feel he has never really chosen his path in life, at least not as much as he wished. 

“Jon,” her voice snapped him back to reality as he realized being lost in thought he had been staring at her. “Sorry, I was just thinking,” he said. But he didn’t turn his head back as he kept staring at her, this time knowingly. “I thought that our arrival in the North would be met with criticism but if these looks are any indication, we are in for a rather unpleasant afternoon,” Jon said to Dany. “I’ve faced far more hostile people than this, once they understand me I am sure they will they will follow me as their rightful queen.” Daenerys responded with confidence. “You don’t know my people like I do, they’re the most stubborn people you’ll ever meet.” Jon said. He knew that Daenerys’ faith in herself was unwavering but so were the stubbornness of the Northern people. She’d need to really prove herself if she wanted their loyalty. “I convinced you didn’t I?” she smiled towards Jon. “Oh is that why you saved me beyond the wall, so I’d trust you?” Jon laughed towards her. “Perhaps,” Dany giggled not able to contain her wide grin towards him.

As they entered the gates the moment Jon had dreaded for a fortnight had finally arrived. It was time to face the Lords of the North and by the way they were looking in his direction, he knew they weren’t going to be convinced by the meeting in the Great Hall today. All of his concerns about convincing them pulled away as he saw Bran sitting in his wheelchair with his hands folded on his lap. He nearly tripped off his horse as he ran towards his brother. Last time he had seen him Bran was lying unconscious in his bed. Now here he was all grown up. He ran over and kissed his forehead. “You’re a man now,” Jon laughed out with a huge smile on his face. “Almost,” Bran responded. Something was wrong. His response was completely emotionless along with his face. The long, hard years had altered his little brother. He wasn’t the same little boy that loved to climb and ride horses. He was... something more. 

His attention from Bran was pulled away after Sansa cleared her throat. He rose off his knees and embraced his sister. He heard footsteps approaching behind him as he turned around to see Ser Jorah and Daenerys. He held his breath for he knew Sansa would not take lightly to their new queen. “Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen, Sansa Stark the Lady of Winterfell,” he introduced immediately looking to Sansa’s face to try and read it. He knew it wasn’t a trustful face but it wasn’t one of hate either. He didn’t really know what to think of her expression. “Thank you for inviting us into your home Lady Stark,” Daenerys began. “The North is as beautiful as your brother claimed, as are you.” Jon closed his eyes at Daenerys’ last words as he knew Sansa wouldn’t fall for hollow complements. “Winterfell is yours your grace,” Sansa responded as Jon expected her to. Her voice full of distrust

 

DAENERYS

Daenerys’ arrival in Winterfell was all but pleasant. Everyone looked at her with distrustful faces but she didn’t let it deteriorate herself from her goal. Destroy the Night King and his armies and then take back her throne. She would need the support of the North which in turn should also get her the support if the Vale of Arryn. From what Jon had told her, the knights of the Vale were some of the best trained knights in the seven kingdoms. 

Daenerys turned as she heard yelling behind her as someone on horseback was pushing their way past her men to get inside the gates. She recognized the man as Beric Dondarrion, he was part of the squadron of men that went beyond the wall with Jon to retrieve a wight. He fell off his horse and Jon along with some other men rushed over to examine him. “Send for a maester!” Jon said as he began to grab Beric to carry him inside. Beric aggressively grabbed the back of Jon’s head and whispered something in his ear. Daenerys couldn’t make out what he was telling Jon but she was able to discern the word ‘risen’. Jon met Daenerys’ eyes with great sorrow. “Gather everyone into the great hall, we have news.” With that order, Lady Sansa began directing the lords of the North into the largest tower in Winterfell. The castle was not as glamorous as the Red Keep of King’s Landing but she wouldn’t have expected Jon to grow up in such a place, it wouldn’t suit him. No this was much more fitting of him. “Khaleesi,” Ser Jorah pulled her from her thoughts as he took her arm in his and began leading her toward the great hall.

The great hall wasn’t quite great. It was cramped and no warmer than the outside. But it had a certain charm to it. At the front of the hall sat Jon and his sister Sansa. She was hoping that she and his sister would get along when they met. As they both knew what it was like to go through such hardships and emerge stronger than before. But perhaps those hardships were the very reason Sansa was distrustful of her. She realized all the Northern lords were staring at her and she then began to proceed to the front. Her eyes met Jon’s as she reached the table and he had a look of guilt and sadness in his eyes when looking towards her. She knew whatever news he had to share, it would be unpleasant but she would be there for him and he would be there for her.

“My lords,” Jon began. “Thank you all for gathering here with your banners and your men.” Daenerys looked around the hall and thankfully all the eyes had been diverted towards Jon. “Along with the forces of the North and the Vale Queen Daenerys has also brought us her army of Dothraki and Unsullied along with her dragons. Now that we have convinced Cersei Lannister that the threat is real, the Lannister armies are now marching North to help us fight the army of the dead.” With this the hall erupted into angry chatter about how the Lannisters can’t be trusted and Daenerys also heard some saying it was an insult that they’re hosting one as of right now, obviously referring to her Hand Tyrion. Jon began slamming on the table with his mug to regain the attention of the Northern folk. “I understand your distrust for the Lannisters but we can’t face this threat alone, we need every man in all of Westeros to help us fight if we are going to survive!” With that the hall began to calm until a young girl no older than thirteen years of age rose to her feat. “Your grace, or whatever you are now that you have bent the knee, why should we trust this dragon queen?” the young girl asked. She seemed surprisingly mature for her age as she spoke with the kind of voice that commanded respect. A voice that Daenerys knew all too well. “If she only chose to help our cause after you pledged yourself to her.” she finished. “She chose to fight alongside us before I bent the knee, I did not bend the knee to gain her trust, I bent the knee because I believe that she can build a better world then the shit one we’re living in.” The hall began to calm, the faith Jon’s people held in him was obvious and Daenerys was thankful for that. Just when she thought things were about to calm the young girl continued to speak. “My lord, from what I recall I was told that the Dragon Queen had three dragons but I only saw two. Where would the other be?” Daenerys looked to Jon and he gave her a look of sorrow and guilt. She took his hand in hers and gave him a nod allowing him to answer the question but not before he winced closing his eyes. “Viserion was killed by the Night King saving my life,” Jon answered. 

With a satisfied look the young girl sat down and everyone started to stare towards Daenerys once more. But not with the same faces she’d seen upon her arrival. These were faces of approval and dare she think even admiration. “Which leads me to some unfortunate news,” Jon continued. “The wall at Eastwatch has fallen, the army of the dead march’s south now and we need to begin preparations at once.” With this thehall once again flooded with chatter. “Your grace,” a large older man stood up silencing everyone immediately. “How is this possible? The wall has stood for thousands of years!” Daenerys saw Jon close his eyes as he took a deep inhale before answering the lord’s question. “The dragon Viserion has been raised by the Night King and has taken down the wall.” Everything pulled away for a second as Daenerys took in the news but she was immediately pulled back by the accusations being made towards her. “Your grace it’s the Targaryen’s fault that there’s a dragon in the undead army now, I believe she should be punished accordingly!” The old man yelled drawing his sword. “I’ll cut you down where you stand.” Daenerys was about to threaten to burn the man alive when a sudden growl put everyone to silence.

Daenerys’ breath fell short as a great beast entered the hall. A giant wolf the size of a horse with fur as white as the very hair on her hair entered. The eyes of the beast were blood red and nobody dared move a muscle. Daenerys looked to Jon waiting for him to do something but he just looked forward angrily towards Lord Glover and she had to wonder what he was thinking. “My apologies Lord Glover, I’m sure Ghost just misheard you what was it you said? You’ll cut down the Queen where she stands?” Jon said. Sweat poured down the lord’s face as he answered his King’s question. “I uh, said nothing your grace, my sincerest apologies,” he said as he sat down. Ghost. The name wrang through Dany’s mind as she processed the what the wolf having a name meant. How is it that Jon was able to tame such a beast and make it his own. With a whistle, the wolf bit at the man missing him then walked away and took its place behind Jon. There was no doubt. It was Jon’s, but still the eyes of the wolf were rather unsettling and something that pierced through Dany’s soul even if she could trust it now.

 

DAENERYS

The meeting wrapped shortly after the confrontation and Dany needed to step outside. Even if Winterfell wasn’t the nicest castle it had a certain charm to it. She was surprised to discover a forest within its walls and figured she would go there to find some quiet and try to process the news she’d just recieved. Her child Viserion was now fighting for the Night King. The valyrian words echoed through her mind, zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor. A dragon is not a slave. 

She needed time to think so she entered what Jon told her was called the godswood. She assumed it was probably more beautiful during the summer when the trees held their green leaves on their branches. But she was surprised to see one tree hadn’t lost its leaves. Its leaves were red and it was the only one in the forest with any leaves at all. The trunk was completely white and she was able to make out what appeared to be faces etched into its trunk. As she got closer she could hear the whine of an animal. Looking to her right she saw Jon sitting on a stone with the white wolf from before resting its head on his lap. He stroked the wolf with no fear of it harming him. “Is this why they call you the White Wolf?” Jon looked over at her before responding. “I suppose it would be,” he answered. She moved to sit beside him and examine the wolf up close. Being this close to it, it was apparent how big it really was. Could it be a direwolf? But everything she had been told of direwolves told her that they were wild creatures that would kill you the moment they spotted you. This one behaved like a newborn pup, unless he needed to act like a wolf. “How did you tame such a wild animal?” Daenerys asked. She motioned her hand towards the head of the wolf and looked towards Jon asking with her eyes if she could pet him. He gave her a nod and answered her question. “I’m not entirely sure, we found him and his siblings alone in the forest whilst we were hunting. I convinced my father to keep them as they were the sigil of House Stark. Ghost is the last one left out of those direwolves.” he finished. “I suppose he developed some type of loyalty towards you,” Daenerys said placing her head on his shoulder. “I would suppose so,” Jon smiled kissing her on her forehead. They sat there for a little while longer as she pet the now sleeping wolf before she interrupted the silence. “The lords don’t seem to like me,” she said. “Including your sister.” “They don’t know you yet, they’ll believe in you as well soon enough,” Jon said. “You didn’t sound very certain when we were approaching Winterfell before,” she responded. “I’m trying to make you feel better what am I supposed to say?” he laughed out. They sat there giggling for a few seconds before they were interrupted.

“Ahem,” they heard behind them turning to find a girl Daenerys had never seen before. She carried a sword in her belt with a thin blade. This must be Arya, Jon had told her all about her and Daenerys had assumed she must be rather special. “I suppose I should leave you two alone for now,” Daenerys said getting up and brushing herself getting ready to leave. “Take Ghost with you,” Jon said. The direwolf opened its eyes and quickly stretched before he rose to his feet and began following Daenerys without any further instruction. But not before lingering on her, smelling her belly. As they turned to leave the godswood Arya and Jon were left standing there just staring waiting for one to say the first word.

 

ARYA

After waiting in the back of the hall for what seemed like an eternity just looking to the front at Jon, she could finally talk to her brother and tell him of everything. But when she’d gone to see him in the godswood he found Daenerys Targaryen there sitting next to him. It was obvious they were together but Arya didn’t feel like dwelling on that subject. She just wanted to spend the rest of the day with her brother. After the dragon queen dismissed herself along with Ghost her and Jon stood there for what felt like hours just taking each other in. He had acquired some brand new scars on his face. Two faint ones that went over his left eye and the other one around his right eye. If what she had been told about him was true, he also would have some much deeper scars. She didn’t want to think about what the Night’s Watch had done to him and how fortunate she was to be able to stand here and look him in the eyes. But it wasn’t something she could simply ignore and they would need to discuss it sooner or later. 

After a few more seconds of just standing there both her and Jon ran into each other's arms and spent a good few more seconds in a warm embrace. “You’ve grown,” Jon said first. “You haven’t,” Arya retorqued, Jon had always been rather small. “Still carrying this little thing around?” Jon placed his finger on the hilt of Needle, Arya’s sword. She drew it holding it in both her hands and handing it over to Jon. “I could make you a new one, not as thin.” Jon said giving back to Arya as she put it back in her sheath. “It's worked for me so far, and it will continue to do so.” Jon then pulled out his sword with a white wolf pommel placing it in Arya’s hands the same as she had done. “Valyrian steel?” she said with wide eyes looking at the beautiful blade. “Jealous?” Jon giggled. She was barely able to hold it steadily with two hands, let alone one. “Too heavy for me,” Arya replied. “Sansa doesn’t trust your queen does she?” Arya asked. Jon’s grin slowly faded at the question. “Not yet,” he replied not sounding all that confident in it. “And what about you?” Arya asked. “I would put my trust in her with my life. As I already have,” he said. Arya knew this as she was in the hall when he announced that one of her dragons had died saving him. “I think you’ve put more than just your trust in her,” Arya said with a completely serious face even if what she said wasn’t serious whatsoever. Jon’s face was expression was filled with surprise at the forwardness of his sister. “Have you?” she asked. “I’m not going to answer that.” That answer alone was enough. “Jon Snow, the bastard of Lord Eddard Stark, never went to the whore houses with Robb and Theon, left for the Night’s Watch where you could never lay with a woman, now shares a bed with the mother of dragons.” Jon couldn’t contain his smile any longer. “You’ve grown up. Come on, lets get inside it’s getting rather cold.”

 

YARA

Yara had been tied to this post for the entirety of their journey to Essos and back. Euron had sat by her with whatever time he could spare in order to torture her mentally by talking about everything he’s going to do once the war is over. “Do you really think you still have a chance at winning?” she asked interrupting whatever rant Euron was going off on today. “The numbers will even out by the time the fighting in the North is over. If they lose then I’ll go back to the Iron Islands and live out the rest of my days there.” He jolted up staring her in the eyes with great intensity. “But first I’m gonna fuck the queen,” he said now getting up to leave as they had docked.

Many hours had past as Yara sat there asleep when she could suddenly make out the sound of arrows piercing skulls on the deck of the ship. Her door opened to one of Euron’s men falling back with an axe sticking out between his eyes. Her little brother Theon came in through the door meeting her eyes. She felt a slew of emotions with the dominant ones being betrayal and happiness that he had come back for her. He walked behind the post to untie her and even though he had returned to rescue her it didn’t change the fact that he was the reason she’d been stuck on this ship for the past months. She gave him a headbutt and then offered her hand for him to return to his feet.

They grabbed the unmanned ships sitting in the harbor and began to sail for the Iron Islands to take it back. “With these ships and most of Euron’s men in King’s Landing we can take back the Iron Islands, Daenerys will need somewhere to flee if they can’t hold the North,” Theon didn’t seem to share her enthusiasm as he looked down and said with a sollem voice. “You’re my queen, I go where you command.” She knew what he was thinking and would order him against it. But no matter how much he has run all his life, this wasn’t something that he could run away from. No matter how much she didn’t want him to go, she couldn’t stop him. “You want to go North, to fight for the Starks?” Theon nodded to her and she took him into her embrace. “What is dead may never die,” she said. “But kill the bastards anyways.”

DAENERYS

“Your grace,” Jorah approached her from behind while Missandei was trying to reassure her that everything with the Northern lords would be alright. “There’s someone I would like you to meet,” he said taking her hand and guiding her to the Winterfell library. It was simple like the rest of the castle but had enough books in there that would keep you occupied for years. Jorah guided her to the back where a large young man was reading a book on what appeared to be information on the long night. The man looked up and immediately rose to his feet giving a bow to Daenerys which made her smile. He was a well-mannered man and clearly hadn’t met too many rulers. “Your grace this is the man who saved my life at the citadel, I would not be here if not for him,” Jorah said from behind her. “It is an honour to meet you your grace, I’m Samwell, Samwell Tarly.” Daenerys’ grin suddenly faded at his surname. Tarly. She prayed that perhaps it was just pronunciation and he wasn’t at all related to Randyll Tarly. “Tarly? You wouldn’t be related to Randyll Tarly would you?” At this Samwell raised his eyebrows at the dragon queen knowing his father. “He would be my father, he is not serving under you is he?” he said. His distaste for his father was apparent in the way he asked her and Daenerys hoped that it was the same for his brother. “I executed him after he sacked Highgarden and pledged his armies to Cersei Lannister.” At this Sam gave a sad look. He had no love for his father but even still he was family. Hope did rise up inside him however as his brother would allow him to return to his home now that he would be the lord of Horn Hill. “At least now I’ll be able to return home now that my brother’s the lord,” Daenerys’ sympathy for the man grew as she realized she had executed his loving brother and now he was going to hate her for this. “Your brother chose to stand with your father,” he could now no longer hold back the tears as he had loved his little brother and now he was nothing more. He needed to be alone now as he asked to be excused. Even if she executed his brother he was still polite to a queen. 

He exited the library finding Bran sitting alone in the courtyard on his wheelchair. His eyes immediately fixated on Sam, as if he had been waiting for him to appear. He immediately began to recollect the conversation they’d had about Jon being a Targaryen, the rightful heir to the iron throne. Sam had never been a petty person but he couldn’t simply drive away the thought that his brother was now ash blowing in the wind. “Where’s Jon?” Sam asked as he approached Bran. “In the crypts, it’s time.” Sam nodded glad that he got the approval to inform Jon. “You should tell him,” Bran said as blankly as every other word that came out of his mouth. “What? But you’re his brother, shouldn’t you tell him,” Sam asked. He wanted to tell Jon but it would probably be best if it came from the mouth of his brother. “It will be better coming from you, besides there are too many stairs going down into the crypts,” with a nod Sam began to march his way down into the crypts trying to determine the best way to tell Jon without him dying from shock.

 

JON

Jon stood in front of his father’s statue as he lit candles like he had seen him doing quite often. He took a moment to look at his father’s statue. They couldn’t capture his face at all. He wondered if he would be proud of what he’s been able to become. King in the North or Warden now, leading the fight against the White Walkers. He heard a clumsy stumble and voice that he knew all too well. As he rounded the corner he saw a familiar face. “Sam?” he thought he’d still be at the Citadel but here he is paying a visit. He pulled him into his embrace and pulled back to see he’d been crying. “What’s the matter?” there was a slight pause before Sam was able to answer his question. “Daenerys,” Sam started. “She executed my father and brother.” Jon backed away. She’d never told him this and he could only imagine how Sam felt realizing he’d received the news from the executioner herself. “I’m sorry.” Jon said. “Would you have done it?” While it was a question he knew what Sam was getting at and he didn’t need to hear it. He’d already had to yell enough at the northern lords today and didn’t feel like yelling at his best friend. “I’ve executed men who’ve betrayed me,” he started before he was interrupted. “You’ve also spared men, the wildlings when they refused to kneel.” Sam interrupted. “I hanged a twelve year old boy,” Jon countered causing Sam switch his approach. “What if she’s not right for rule,” Sam said. 

Jon sighed at this and frowned. “Sam I’ve had to deal with people telling me this all day and I’m tired of it, besides who else is out there with a claim?” Jon replied. You, Sam wanted to say but that was a little bit too forward. “I have something to tell you and you’re not going to believe it but I can prove it,” Sam said taking a deep breath before continuing. “At the citadel, I transcribed a high septon’s diary, he said that Rhaegar Targaryen annulled his marriage to Elia Martell and married another,” Sam began. Jon understood what he was getting at and he didn’t really want to hear it. “Well that’s all well and good Sam but what are you saying? That Rhaegar had another child and that child lives?” Jon thought this completely unlikely but whoever it was posed no immediate threat. “The child does live, I’m looking at him right now,” Jon’s breath fell completely short at this statement. He forced out a laugh hoping that Sam would join him and admit that this was all some cruel joke. But Sam didn’t laugh, his expression remained the same as it had been the entire conversation. “Your mother was Lyanna Stark, Bran saw it in a vision. You being born in a tower in Dorne and Ned Stark promising your mother to protect you. And he did, if Robert knew about it he would have smashed your head in with a hammer. Your name is Aegon Targaryen.” The name felt worse then the knives that gutted him the night he died. Daenerys. She was his aunt. He fell in love with his aunt, with everything that’s happening should he tell her? Would she be able to focus if he distanced himself for her. Or should he stay with her for the betterment of her mental state going into this war. The thought of being with her for the greater good felt worse, as if he would be manipulating her emotions. 

“Go away Sam, I need to be alone,” Jon struggled to say. “I understand, what about Daenerys?” Even the sheer mention of her name was like a knife twisting in his gut. “She is our queen, whatever claim I have will not change that,” Jon was starting to get angry, Sam knows he wants nothing to do with the throne. “She shouldn’t be,” Sam responded. “You gave up your crown to save your people, would she do the same?” With that he left Jon to himself. Why is it always him, he was finally happy for once in his shit life, he should have known that the gods were far too cruel to give him anything good. 

He began walking slowly down the halls of the crypts finding himself in front of the grave of her. His mother. The woman who brought him into this world. The woman he had thought about every night before he’d went to bed as a boy. The woman he had longed to meet his entire life, was here this whole time, and he didn’t know. “Hello mother,” the muttered out the words he’d wanted to say this whole life. When he finally said it he wanted to say it with a smile on his face with tears of joy, not sadness. When he said them he wanted to hug his mother and feel a warmth he’d never felt his whole life. The warmth of a mother’s love. But he never could, because here she was. A pile of bones at his feet, she’d never see who he’s become and what he’s done, what he’s accomplished when life dealt him a cruel hand, she would never be able to tell him she’s proud. Proud that he’s her son. He fell to his hands and knees and began sobbing like the little boy so many years ago who just wanted a mother.

 

JAIME

Crowds of people, mostly soldiers, rode along the kingsroad taking no notice of him. He thought it best to ride with the people in much less extravagant armour. He didn’t want anyone to notice him until he’d reached his destination of Winterfell. He’d spent most of his journey with his hood on, not stopping at taverns or inns and only purchasing food from wagons. He could see it now in the distance, he always thought if he returned here that it would be with an army, to attack and take the castle. Not to possibly give his life protecting it. Once he’d finally entered the gates he felt it safe to take off his hood after his long journey. He looked around and saw snow, he’d seen it before but not in such a long time. He wanted to admire it and its beauty but he couldn’t as he knew what came with winter. He looked at the walls seeing the Stark banners tattered across the walls. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself at this, he never thought he would see the Starks return to what they once were, or at least beginning to. Finally after tying his horse up he took a deep breath knowing he had to face Daenerys Targaryen and tell her of his sister’s treachery, he’d be lucky if he wasn’t burned alive on the spot or torn apart by the white direwolf of the King in the North. Finally building up the courage he turned only to see someone sitting on a chair with wheels staring right at him blankly and unsurprised, as if he’d been waiting for him. He recognized the boy immediately as Brandon Stark, a terrible reminder of the man he once was and the terrible things he did. The things he did for love.


	2. Episode 2: The Calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime stands for his crimes, Jon deals with the truth.

Daenerys

“When I was a little girl my brother would tell me a story about the man who murdered our father,” Daenerys began the trial of Jaime Lannister. “And all the things we would do to that man.” Jaime stood in the great hall of Winterfell surrounded by the judgemental eyes of the lords of the North with Daenerys Targaryen and Sansa Stark at the front of the hall, the King in the North seemingly nowhere to be found. He looked over to see his little brother Tyrion who was seemingly experiencing just as much discomfort as his big brother, if not more. “I’m sure you know how I had to live my life because of you, always fleeing from place to place from the assassins of your king,” Jaime bowed his head in shame. The Mad King should not have been allowed to continue to rule but the thought that his actions caused an innocent child to have to endure a life such as that made him sick to his stomach. “Tell me why should I not send the your charred remains back to your sister?” Daenerys questioned desperately wanting to watch him burn. “I’m sure Cersei wouldn’t mind that after I betrayed her for coming here. She never had any intention of sending her armies North and has in fact strengthened her army with the Golden Company. 18,000 infantrymen and 2,000 cavalry.” Daenerys winced at this. Not only were the numbers excruciatingly lower then they had hoped they would be against the Night King but now Cersei would most likely have the numbers advantage once the war was won. “And how are we supposed to trust you?” Sansa Stark started. “You tried to destroy my house and fought my father in the streets of King’s Landing.” 

“We were at war! All the things I did were for my house and I would do it all again.” Jaime yelled. While he shouldn’t be he was starting to get irritated. “The things we do for love,” while nobody understood it Jaime did and he completely failed to hide his fear of Brandon Stark telling everybody what he did to him. “Your grace I know my brother, why would he come if he knew how he would be received?” Tyrion defended his brother. “Perhaps he bet on his little brother to defend him, gain our trust, and then slit my throat. Just as he did my father.” Daenerys was clearly not going to pardon Jaime anytime soon. But Tyrion wasn’t just going to let his brother die like this and he knew what would get Daenerys to calm down “Perhaps we should get Jon’s input before we reach a final decision.” With that Daenerys took a deep breath and muttered a hesitant “Very well. I want him locked in a cell for now until we can sort out what to do with him” With that the hall was dismissed and the lords began evacuating all giving Jaime nasty looks on the way out.

Daenerys then approached Varys once all the lords had left the hall. “Where is Jon?” she asked. She hadn’t seen him all day and was wondering if he was feeling sick. He couldn’t be sick right now when the army of the dead was rapidly approaching. “He was last seen entering the crypts the previous night and hasn’t been seen since.” Varys explained. After giving him a nod Daenerys proceeded to the Winterfell crypts wondering what kept him from a rather important meeting in the great hall.

Daenerys began her descent down a spiral staircase into the dark and gloomy underground of Winterfell. It was dark, just barely kept lit by the candles of lined along the walls. She passed by statue after statue and Stark after Stark. She continued down the seemingly endless hall until she could hear the Jon’s faint snoring. She found him sleeping behind a woman’s statue using Ghost as a pillow. When she went to wake him she found his face stained with tears that still appeared to be falling. After some hesitance she began rocking him lightly to get him to wake.

Jon

Jon began stirring in his sleep to wake up to the face he saw most mornings. But it was different this time because this time he knew the truth and still wasn’t sure when he should tell her or if he should at all. “Are you alright?” Dany asked concern written on her face. Not now he thought to himself. Soon but not now. “I’m alright,” it was so obvious a lie and it was so obvious she could tell. “Is it something you would prefer not to discuss?” no I don’t. I don’t even want to remember what happened last night. “Not yet,” he said hesitantly as he began lifting himself to his feet along with Ghost. “I need some time to process it before discussing,” he knew the longer he waited the worse it would be but they needed to focus right now. Why Sam didn’t understand that was beyond Jon. “Why were you sleeping here?” Jon was never a good liar unless it came to stealing pastries from the baker's when he was a little boy with his brother Robb. “I just needed somewhere else to be,” Daenerys could tell there was no truth to it but she wouldn’t press him further. “Well a rider has arrived,” Daenerys said. “Jaime Lannister,” Jon eyed her suspiciously at the way she said it clearly not pleased. “Well that’s good, when did he say the Lannister forces would arrive.” Jon said beginning to clear his face of tears. “Never,” Daenerys finally said. Tears began to form in her eyes and Jon realized what thoughts were stirring in her mind. “Viserion,” he mumbled. “My child died for nothing!” Jon pulled her into his embrace holding her face to his chest as she sobbed into it. “We’ll kill them all Dany. The Night King, Cersei, all of them. It won’t be in vain, I promise.” Jon said as he started wiping the tears from her eyes. “We should send him back in a box filled with ash,” Daenerys said suddenly switching from sadness to anger. “We don’t have enough men to simply throw them away, we need every man we have.” Jon wanted to kill Jaime after everything he and his family had done. But he needs to think about the war to come. “Where is he?” he asked. “In the cells,” she responded. “I think it’s time I had a chat with him.”

 

Jaime

“You know it’s not so bad,” Tyrion said sarcastically. “I mean it’s not exactly large, that thing in the corner is… well it’s something, and look. They even gave you a bucket.” Jaime turned his head to his with a serious look on his face but burst into giggles he could no longer contain. “I recall having a rather similar conversation in your cell in King’s Landing.” Jaime said remembering the stressful trial. “So does that mean you’re going to kill the guards and bust me out?” Jaime asked sarcastically clearly aware he wouldn’t. “Oh well I don’t know should we try it?” Tyrion said through giggles. He missed his brother and if he was being serious, part of him wished he stayed in King’s Landing but the other part of him is happy that he’s here before they all die. 

Tyrion turned his head at the sound of footsteps and saw Jon and Daenerys with Brienne accompanying walking the hall and approaching the cell. “Your graces,” Jaime said bowing his head but not standing up. “We decided not to decide on his punishment without you.” Daenerys said to Jon without looking at him, both of them keeping their eyes on Jaime, piercing into him. “Ser Jaime Lannister, you have committed many crimes, murdered the king you were sworn to protect, fought my father in the streets in King’s Landing, laid siege to Riverrun after the Tullys took it back.” Jon listed off everything he committed against his family and many others. “What do you have to say for yourself?” Jon said. The bastard whom Jaime had met many years prior was not the same boy he knew. He actually seemed like he had some sort of confidence in what he was saying. “I understand that my crimes are many and you’re not even close to listing them all. But all of that won’t matter if we don’t win this war.” Jaime said trying to defend himself. “Is it we already?” Jaime stared at him wide-eyed remembering those words he said to him and surprised that he even remembered them. “I understand that you shouldn’t trust me as my loyalties have always been debatable but,” Jaime paused to look at Brienne over their shoulders. “This goes beyond loyalty.” Brienne raised her chin pleased that he took her advice. “I can’t forgive you for everything you’ve done,” Jaime looked down realizing this might be his end. “But I’m not putting a good man like you to waste. Tyrion, find my sister and tell her I want Ser Jaime put in a proper room. Jaime looked up and Daenerys looked less than pleased. “Thank you your grace, truly.” with that Jon Snow, Daenerys Targaryen, and Tyrion left with Brienne staying behind to bring escort Jaime out of the cells.

Daenerys

She needed some time to cool down. She finally had the man who ruined her life in front of her and she couldn’t do anything. Another thing troubling her was the way Jon was acting, just completely depressed. She decided to go to the library hoping it would result in peace and quiet. She sat down taking a deep breath and clearing her head before being pulled out of her thoughts by a voice behind her. 

“Hello Daenerys Targaryen,” Daenerys jumped at the voice and turned to see Arya Stark, the youngest Stark sister. “Hello Lady Stark,” the girl made Dany uneasy. She seemed calm and collective but like she could slit your throat at a moments notice. “I was hoping I would get a chance to speak with you at some point,” Arya said breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Well I would love to know more about you,” Daenerys said. “And I you,” Arya said pulling out a chair not breaking eye contact. “I grew up on stories about Rhaenys and Visenya Targaryen, the two warrior women who rode into battle on their dragons,” Arya’s face began to show less coldness and more admiration and Daenerys started to feel she might like this young girl. “What is it like riding a dragon?” she asked. “Wondrous, everything else just pulls away and it’s just you and the sky,” Daenerys said thinking back to when she first rode Drogon back in the fighting pits of Meereen. The immense power she felt when riding away. “I can only imagine,” Arya said with a wide smile on her face. “I’ve seen you fighting in the courtyard, tell me where did you acquire such skill?” Daenerys asked the young girl. “Braavos, with the faceless men,” Arya responded. “The faceless men? I’ve heard of them, they’re some of the deadliest assassins alive,” Daenerys was finding it hard to believe that the fun loving girl Jon talked so much about on the boat is possibly this cold hearted assassin. There were a few more seconds of silence before they Arya continued to speak. “I am sorry that your reception here hasn’t been pleasant,” Arya said. “My sister is less than pleased that Jon so willingly bent the knee.”

“I am starting to wonder if that is what’s best for the North,” Daenerys had been told how much the North had suffered under Southern rule and perhaps they would fare better on their own. “Why is it that Ghost is the only direwolf I see here?” Dany had been told after the great hall meeting that the Starks all had their own direwolves but only saw Jon’s and he wasn’t the last Stark. “Most of them are dead, my wolf is somewhere out in the wild.” Arya responded with some somber in her eyes. “What’s her name?” Dany asked. Arya smiled as she answered. “Nymeria,” Dany grinned from ear to ear at this, the girl loves her warriors. While Sansa had been fairly cold towards her Arya was someone Dany could actually see becoming friends with.

Before the conversation could continue any further they were interrupted by Maester Wolkan. “Your grace, my lady. Warden Jon Snow demands your presence in the war room, they need to plan for the defense.” They both nodded and rose to follow into the war room. 

The table was a map of Winterfell and the field from where the army would be approaching from. Around the table was Brienne, Tyrion, Davos, Bran, Sansa, Jon, Jaime, and Tyrion with Dany and Arya now entering. “Now that everyone’s here we should start planning now that we don’t have the Lannister forces.” Jon began. “We don’t have much time, thanks to Bran informing us that we only have till the sun comes up tomorrow.” Jon starting placing the pieces on the board. “Without the Lannister forces we will need half the Unsullied to man the castle walls, meaning that we will be shorter in the field.” He began placing the Dothraki, Stark, and Arryn forces on the field. “The army of the dead will charge at full force, we will need the Dothraki to meet them head on while the Stark and Arryn forces take them from the sides. Daenerys with Drogon and Rhaegal will be taking out Viserion. The wights aren’t the real threat it is the White Walkers. If you take them out then the wights they raised fall along with them meaning that they will be hanging back. We will be assembling a team of the best fighters to take out the White Walkers. I don’t want to big a squad to avoid being too noticeable.” The plan wasn’t the best but without the Lannister forces there wouldn’t be an amazing plan. “What about the Night King, since he raised them all wouldn’t they all fall if he does?” Beric said from his chair in the corner. “We need a plan to lure him out, he’ll never expose himself.” “Yes he will,” Bran said with everyone turning to him. “He’ll come for me.” “Why?” Daenerys asked. “For once that is something I don’t know,” he finished not looking to anyone. “Well we’ll need someone to protect you,” Jon responded. “Theon will protect me,” Bran responded. This confused Daenerys as last time she saw Theon he was on leaving Dragonstone to find his sister. “Theon is not here Bran,” Jon responded. “Yes he is,” Bran responded. Immediately after saying that Theon bursts into the room with a few Ironborn men behind him. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said sincerely. Sansa looked as if she was seeing a ghost and began slowly approaching him. “Hello Theon,” Sansa whispered. Before he could say anything else she pulled him into a long hug. After a few more seconds Jon cleared his throat reminding Sansa that there’s other people in the room. “Theon, I’m glad you’re here. I would be ever so grateful if were to protect Bran,” Jon said. Theon looked over to Bran who stared right back towards him and gave him a nod. “It would be an honour,” he replied. “Everyone get some rest, we need to be ready,” with that everybody began to clear out leaving just Bran and Jaime who chose to linger behind. 

Once the last person exited and closed the door Jaime then approached him. “I… I wanted to say I’m sorry for what I did to you, I’ve done horrible things and I’m trying to make it better.” Jaime could barely look into his eyes. Even if his eyes weren’t resentful or anything really it didn’t make it any easier. “It had to happen, so you could be here, as could I,” Jaime looked up in surprise that he was so easily able to forget what happened. “That doesn’t make it right,” Jaime said. “I never said it was right, but it needed to happen.” Jaime was completely bewildered by Bran’s complete acceptance and even gratefulness of the events that transpired between them. But all he could do was give him a nod and ask for leave which Bran granted him.

 

Missandei

Missandei stood on the walls observing the Unsullied working tirelessly on the trench surrounding the castle walls of Winterfell. She looked throughout the yards of Winterfell inside and outside seeing men, young and old, training with large assortments of weapons. Axes, swords, spears. Finally after minutes of searching she came across him, training a young boy how to use a spear and shield. However his training with the masters rubbed off on him a little too much and Missandei decided it would probably be best to stop him before he threw the boy off the highest tower in Winterfell.

After she descended the walls and ran out into the field she was immediately hit with shiveringly a cold breeze. The adjustment from the climate Meereen, to Dragonstone, to Winterfell was excruciatingly difficult. It would of made her more comfortable to know she wasn’t the only one but Grey Worm never appeared to sweat from heat of shiver from cold. Of course, why would he. Unsullied have no weakness, or he was freezing and his Unsullied nature didn’t allow him to show it. She approached Grey Worm continuing his brutal training of the young boy who, lucky for the little boy, seemed to be a natural talent. Even still, he was being far to hard on him and Missandei decided to calm him before it got out of hand. She placed a hand on his shoulder and his face instantly softened at the sight of her. “You shouldn’t be so difficult on him, he is only a boy.” Missandei said attempting to sooth him. “I am making strong soldier,” he said looking to the boy now collapsed with tiredness. “He seems pretty strong to me, and the young ones won’t be the ones doing most of the fighting.” she said and Grey Worm’s shoulders finally began loosening. “You should take a break and walk with me. Grey Worm nodded and lifted the boy to his feet finally allowing him to go rest but being too tired to move to a resting place he fell right back to the ground staring at the sky. Missandei smiled at this and took Grey Worm by the arm and began guiding him back within the walls. 

“How is Westeros?” Grey Worm asked once they reach the gates and enter the castle once more. “A fair bit cold I must say,” Missandei responded. “And everywhere we have been thus far has been rather gloomy.” While Dragonstone was a impressive and large stronghold it was far from welcoming. King’s Landing while a large city, glamourous city, their reception there was rather negative. And Winterfell was rather simplistic, a nice looking castle but clearly not a huge, extravagant home. A lot like Jon Snow. Grey Worm suddenly stopped walking and gripped her arm turning her to him. “When the war is won and there are no more fights to fight. Do you want to stay here?” Grey Worm said, narrowing his eyes slightly. “This is not my home, it never will be.” “Then where is your home?” Missandei asked raising an eyebrow. “My home is with you, wherever you wish to be, I follow. But I do not believe you wish to grow old in this place.” Grey Worm finished now grasping her hands in his. “What about the queen? Are you not loyal to her?” Missandei knew Grey Worm’s loyalty to their queen was immense so this suggestion to leave greatly confused her. “I love our queen but she will have no use for me once the wars are won and there is peace.” he said. “But if you wish to stay here then I will stay. But if you wish to leave then we will leave.” Grey Worm was now finished and waited for her response. “It would be nice to return home, to Naath.” Grey Worm then smiled and placed a hand to her face, caressing her cheek. “Then to Naath we will go,” finally Missandei brought Grey Worm’s lips to hers. “Let’s go get some rest.”

 

Arya

“You hit it how many times?” that familiar voice halted her steps and immediately changed her demeanor as she continued approaching the top of the battlements. “Once with a rock in the jaw, and three times with your fucking hammer!” that same crude voice made Arya lose her breath as they were both here and they were somehow both alive. She cooled herself and calmed her breathing, changing back into her calm and collective demeanor as she continued ascending the steps. Once she reached the top she saw the three of them. Gendry, Sandor, and Beric. “There’s no way it was still moving after you hit it hard three times,” Gendry laughed. “Three times and your hammer didn’t do shit, the cunt just kept on coming,” Sandor laughed. “Did you ever get him?” Gendry asked. “I just told you are you fucking listening to word I say?” Sandor said smacking him on the head. Not hard enough that it hurt but hard enough that it knocked Gendry right of the box he was sitting on. 

When he lifted his head to get up he looked behind and noticed her. “Arya?” Arya gave him a slight grin. “Hello Gendry,” Gendry gave her a nod with a smile and silently gave her an invitation to sit which she took. “You remember how we last saw each other?” Sandor asked. “You left me to die.” “First I robbed you.” Sandor gave let out a small laugh at this offered her some wine which she accepted, drinking it all. Once she was done she handed it back to him, while Beric and Gendry looked completely shocked Sandor seemed to not care at all. “Normally when you’re offered to drink from somebody else’s wine you take a sip,” Sandor said filling his sheepskin back up. “It’s not like you’re going to do anything about it,” Arya responded raising an eyebrow like a challenge. Sandor smiled and raised his bottle before taking another sip. Arya turned back to Gendry now, “Why are you talking to the man who sold you to a witch?” Gendry looked back at Beric clearly questioning it himself. “It doesn’t really matter anymore, we’ll probably be dead by the end of the night anyways.” he responded. “Also I heard you’re going to be a part of the team to go kill the White Walkers,” he said. “I am,” she responded hoping he’d elaborate. “Are you sure I mean, I know you know how to use a sword but these things are death believe me it’s not easy like tapping Hot Pie with Needle,” Gendry blurted out quickly and with great concern. “I know death, there’s many faces to him, and I look forward to seeing this one,” she said. “I’ll see you later Gendry,” she rose to her feet and began walking off without looking back. Gendry looked to Sandor with questioning eyes. “What are you waiting for, permission? Go fuck her!” Sandor said immediately taking a huge swig of wine after he said that. Gendry then sprinted off to find her. “You don’t approve,” Beric finally said something. “You can speak?” Sandor replied sarcastically. “No but it’s not my place to say that I’m not her father.” Beric gave a quick smirk. “Well we’ll be on our way to fight the White Walkers soon, let’s hope they don’t take to long.”

 

Tyrion

The sun finally began to settle upon the horizon making the sky a orange, blue, and red mixture. It was beautiful, truly beautiful. The last beautiful thing he would probably ever see and he wasn’t even outside to observe it. No, he chose to remain inside on this beautiful evening and spend his time drinking all the wine left in the world and drowning in deep conversation with his brother. “Who was that one whore? What was her name, I remember she was the first one to actually throw me out of the brothel.” Tyrion said. He was so drunk at this point he wasn’t even entirely sure if this was actually someone real or some memory conjured up in his head. “I think her name was Bloodrayne,” Jaime answered. He needed to keep a sober head seeing as he was to be fighting in this war but Tyrion would be hiding within the castle walls. “What was it for again?” Tyrion asked. “Why are you asking me? You’re the one who got thrown out,” Jaime asked. “Because I was probably very drunk and did something stupid,” Tyrion slurred. “You seem to do a lot of stupid things when you’re sober,” Jaime commented. Tyrion had told him how much he had been failing Daenerys lately. “That’s not very kind of you Ser,” Tyrion slurred once again. 

Footsteps began approaching behind him and Jaime turned around to see Brienne and Podrick. “Pod, dear boy where have you been?” Tyrion asked attempting to get to his feet but tripping. He would’ve hit his head on the floor if Pod hadn’t caught him. “I’ve been training and training others my lord,” Pod squeezed out as he lifted Tyrion back onto his chair. “Lady Brienne,” Jaime nodded. “Ser Jaime,” Brienne nodded back. “Well do sit with us. I would like to know how Pod’s sword training has been coming along,” Tyrion said. “He has shown great improvement since he’s started but still has a lot to learn,” Brienne said while looking at Pod. “Well then it’s a good that he has a great teacher,” Jaime said smiling and raising his glass. “Sit down, drink with us!” Tyrion exclaimed pulling out a chair beside him for Pod and tapping the seat and Pod is ready to take his invitation before Brienne places her hand over his shoulder. “We need to be sober to fight the army of the dead,” she said. Pod gives a pout but agrees and takes a seat next to Tyrion without a glass. Before they begin to indulge in conversation three others begin to enter the hall. 

Ser Davos, Ser Jorah, and Samwell Tarly. “Oh good the more the merrier!” Tyrion said barely able to get the words out properly. “No drinking for any of us tonight I’m afraid.” Davos said raising his hand before pulling out a seat. Tyrion raises both his hands in the air and looks around the room sarcastically flabbergasted. “Is nobody going to drink with me?” he asked. “No,” they all said in unison. Tyrion sulks into his chair dejected. He looks over to Jorah to see he carries a new sword, the hilt far more attractive than the sword he normally carried. “New sword Ser Jorah?” he asked. Jorah removed the sword from his sheath showing it off to Tyrion. “A gift from Samwell,” he says resheathing it. “Well who would have thought I would ever be in a room with three valyrian steel swords,” Tyrion said looking from Brienne to Jaime to Jorah. Jaime looked down seemingly in shame while Brienne explained. “They were newly formed valyrian steel swords made from the Stark ceremonial sword ‘Ice’,” there was an awkward silence that followed which was then broken by a giggle of Tyrion. “I suppose it’s poetic that you defend Winterfell with the steel of Ned Stark’s sword,” Jaime looked up after hearing his brother say this and nodded as if the shame he carried was washed away and was replaced with some semblance of pride. His brother used to have an endless supply of pride but  
now he was just a sad old man. A shadow of what he used to be but better for it. 

 

Brienne

“So back to all of us dying tonight,” Tyrion said rubbing his hands together. “Lady Brienne, I heard you will be one of the knights fighting the White Walkers, I thought you would be defending Lady Stark” “Well firstly I am not a knight and secondly, the best way to defend Lady Stark is to kill the threat,” Brienne responded and the room fell silent for a few minutes. “Would you like to remedy that?” Jaime asked. Brienne’s face turned to his with a look of surprise at his suggestion. “Come here,” he said motionning his finger to her to follow him to the middle of the room. Everyone’s eyes followed her as she followed Ser Jaime to the middle of the room. He drew his sword and commanded her to kneel which she did. He placed his sword over one shoulder and began reciting the words he had never uttered before but had heard so many times over the course of his knighthood. “In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave,” he then placed his sword on the other shoulder. “In the name of the father, I charge you to be just,” once more he placed his sword and muttered the final words to form her into a knight. “In the name of the mother, I charge you to defend the innocent,” he then withdrew his sword and sheathed it. “Arise Ser Brienne of Tarth, a knight of the seven kingdoms.” Brienne rose to her feet slowly, taking in every second. She had never wished for the title of knight as it was just a title that didn’t hold much value. Anybody can be knighted. She longed for what was received when the title was earned. Respect. Something she yearned for for a length of her life and she had just been gifted it by Ser Jaime Lannister. Someone who insulted her repeatedly, day after day, minute after minute while she brought him across the country and now here he was giving her the title of Ser. As she rose to her feet everyone rose to theirs and gave her applause and praise. She turned back to Jaime and he was giving her a tender smile. This wasn’t a title she had been simply given for being of noble birth. This was something she earned, something she fought for with teeth and nails and everyone knew, and they cheered her for it. 

The brief moment of happiness was cut short by the sound of three horns sounding from the outside signaling the White Walkers arriving. Everyone rose from their seats, Davos and Tyrion heading to command the wall and Brienne, Jaime, and Jorah heading towards the agreed upon meeting place where Daenerys would escort them to their position on dragonback. The dead were here, and if she could’ve picked any time she would most prefer dying than this would be a decent choice. She would die proud.


	3. Episode 3: The Long Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The living battle the dead

Tyrion

Tyrion stood atop the wall watching everyone get into their proper positions. The Unsullied being the second lines of defense and the archers on top of the wall. The dothraki cavalry lining up with their arakhs, the Northern infantry on the eastern flank and the knights of the Vale on the western. He saw his brother Jaime commanding the Arryn forces and placing them into their positions which they reluctantly listened to, Wyman Manderly commanded the Northern forces placing them into formation, Grey Worm speaking in valyrian commanded the Unsullied into formation, and Davos was to command the archers atop the wall. He could not see the army of the dead but they were there. Any warmth he felt under his furs were quickly stripped away and replaced with the complete icy coat that came with the wind. 

Walking from the outer side of the wall to the inner he viewed the common folk being gathered into the high tower of Winterfell and Bran Stark being escorted into the godswood. If the Night King is coming for him it would be best he be away from the common folk. He turned and walked back towards the front side of the wall to observe the field once again. “Ser Davos Seaworth, survivor of the Battle of the Blackwater and the Battle of the Bastards with barely any combat training or experience. Could this battle be your undoing?” Tyrion questioned raising an eyebrow. “I suppose we’ll find out, though luck has favoured me so far.” he chuckled. Though there was no humour behind it, how could there be with what they were about to face. “I survived the Battle of the Green Fork, the Battle of the Blackwater, and the Liberation of Slaver’s Bay,” Tyrion said. “And I have even less combat experience than you.” “Maybe we’re just lucky fools who charge into battles we’re not prepared for,” Davos responded. “Well luck has favoured us so far,” Tyrion said. “Perhaps it hasn’t run out just yet.” “Or perhaps it has,” Davos responded. They both simultaneously sighed looking out over the open field. As ready as they’ll ever be for what was to come.

Theon

Theon wheeled Bran through the gates of the godswood and placed him within arms length of the weirwood tree. Theon then began directing his men around in a circle encompassing the weirwood tree. Once finished he turned around to Bran. “Bran, whatever happens tonight I just want you to know that I’m sorry,” he said. Bran turned his head and looked at him as emotionless as ever. “It does not matter what you did, what matters is that you are here now, where you belong, home.” he responded. While emotionless his words affected Theon, a sudden weight was lifted from his shoulders but not all of it. It wouldn’t be gone until he fulfilled his promise to protect him, and he would do that. He had to. 

Jon

Jon lead a team of Brienne, Jorah, Sandor, Beric, and much to his reluctance, Arya. Daenerys came to a stop and closed her eyes to summon her dragons. After a few moments roars filled the air as Drogon and Rhaegal gracefully landed in front of them. Everyone took a step back except for Jon and Daenerys. “Well, get on.” she said motioning for everyone to follow her which everyone did with much reluctance. Once they took off Jon could see the entire field from up in the sky. Nobody was scrambling anymore to get in formation as they were all ready. He looked over to the side the army of the dead were approaching from and couldn’t quite distinguish them but the giant looming shadow was incredibly visible. The dragons brought them to a clifftop where they wouldn’t be seen and they would be able to overlook the battlefield. Before Jon could join the rest of his team Daenerys took hold of his hand. “This is where I leave you,” she said with concern in her eyes. Jon put his hand around her hip pulling her closer. “Be careful up there,” he said before placing a kiss to her lips. Of course he cared about the news he’d received but he’s not sure if he’ll ever see her again. If they survive then that’s another matter entirely but right now it doesn’t matter. “I’ll see you at the end of this,” she whispered. “Your queen commands you to survive.” with that she mounted Drogon looking back at Jon before taking off.

Finally Jon went over to join the rest of his team standing next to Sandor. “Did you fuck her before the battle?” Jon rolled his head back and exhaled audibly. “No,” he answered annoyed. “Dumb shit,” Sandor answered quickly before walking off to give him and his sister a moment alone. He bent down a little to match her height and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t do anything to crazy, this isn’t anything you were trained for.” he said. “I don’t think anyone was trained for this,” she answered calmly without any nervousness in her voice whatsoever. But she quickly pulled Jon into a tight hug before letting him go and turning her attention back to the field. “Be careful,” she said. “I’m supposed to tell you that,” he smiled. This time Beric pulled him aside a little down bit further away from the ledge. “I don’t want the White Walkers to see this and give away our position,” he answered before pulling out his sword and motioning for Jon to do the same. “It’s going to be dark down there and I thought you would want to know my little trick,” he said. He took Jon’s hand and placed it around the blade of Longclaw, cutting it. He then placed his hand around the sword and said some inaudible prayer before his blade burst into flames. “It will ignite whenever you please,” he said igniting his own sword and then shoving it into the snow to put out the flames, Jon doing the same. “Thank you Beric,” Beric gave a smile and a nod before they made their way back to the cliffside.

Davos

Now that Tyrion had left the battlements Davos stood up there alone and watched the armies waiting patiently for a signal to attack. Out of the darkness and somehow unnoticed by the army of the dead rode a lone rider sporting a red cloak. Once the rider removed her hood Davos’ breath completely departed his lungs at seeing Melisandre. The woman he promised he would execute himself if he ever saw again. She approached the dothraki cavalry speaking to them in their tongue and they all rose their swords. She grabbed the one closest to her and began speaking in valyrian. After some seconds the arakh she was gripping burst into flames, and then the next, and the next and then every arakh was set ablaze. She rode towards the gates looking up expectantly. Davos hesitated for a moment. “Open the gates!” Davos shouted. The shear anger pulsing through his veins at this moment surprised even him. Now getting closer to her he didn’t even want to behead her, just stab her then and there. He began to reach for his sword when she stopped him. “There’s no need for that Ser Davos, I’ll be dead before the dawn.” even though Davos was so ready and willing something within him stopped himself from acting any further. It surprised him especially when he stepped to the side and allowed her to pass. What are you doing? She’s right there! Kill her! But he didn’t some part of him knew they needed her even if he didn’t want to admit it. 

Once he returned to the battlements he saw the could just faintly see that the dead were charging them in a tidal wave of resurrected bodies. The dothraki began to charge screaming their war cries, while the North and Vale forces started charging them from the sides. When the two armies made contact it was terrifying. The dead swarmed over them slitting throats and stabbing erratically doing anything to kill anything that moved. Davos took a deep breath before commanding the archers. Huge waves of flaming dragonglass arrows flew overhead and and multiple dead fell after contact. Repeatedly and repeatedly they fired the arrows but it didn’t seem to make enough of a difference as the armies were still getting almost completely run over and the Unsullied were struggling to catch the stragglers. Davos prayed to every god he knew, old, new, the seven, lord of light, anything. He prayed that Tyrion was wrong, that this battle wouldn’t be his undoing.

Tyrion

Tyrion looked out the window as the battle raged outside. He looked back in the room, he was amongst the rest of the people who were believed to be of no help at all. Sansa, Varys, Missandei, even Ghost, and the red priestess who visited them on Dragonstone. He couldn’t help but feel that he could be of use out there. That they were wrong in assuming he was better suited to help after the war then during. If the previous events of the war against Cersei were any indication it’s that he doesn’t know his sister like he thought he did. “I should be out there,” he said turning around to sit back down. “And what difference could you possibly make against the army of the dead,” Varys scoffed. “Remember when I charged through the mud gate? That made a difference.” Tyrion didn’t know what it was but he knew if he were out there he would catch something others wouldn’t, some sort of significant detail, some clue to end it all. “So you think you charging through a gate is going to win the battle?” Varys questioned. “No but I caught that detail, I knew we needed to charge through the mud gate, what if I catch a detail and I can’t tell anyone?” Tyrion said. “You would die before you caught any details Tyrion that’s why you’re here,” Sansa interrupted. “That’s why we’re all here, we’re no use out there.” 

Tyrion took a deep breath before collecting his thoughts and sitting down. “Do you ever have second thoughts about us?” Tyrion said sarcastically. “Oh yes I missed you so much I would stay up nights just thinking about you,” Sansa replied with equal sarcasm. Tyrion giggled at her comment happy to see she wasn’t as miserable as she was those days in King’s Landing. “If it’s any consolation, you were the best of them.” she said with a more serious tone. “I don’t think it was much of a competition,” Tyrion giggled. “But even if I enjoyed our marriage I wouldn’t have second thoughts, you’re allied with this Dragon Queen.” she scoffed. Tyrion tilted his head back and sighed. But before he could say anything Missandei interjected. “She’s out there risking everything and all you are capable of is complaining?” Missandei said. “Does she not realize this is her fight to? Why does she demand that we aid her in her war afterwards?” Sansa argued. “Plus I’ve seen Jon around her, I can tell she’s manipulating him.” Sansa snarled. Tyrion interjected this time. “Believe me I spent a fortnight with them on the boat to White Harbor and those two got rather annoying at some points but I can confirm that the feelings are mutual.” Tyrion argued. Sansa turned her head away and huffed. “Even still you shouldn’t speak ill of someone who is currently risking their life to protect your home,” he finished. The room finally settled into silence as they were brought back to the reality of the battle raging on outside. 

Jon

They continued to wait on their position on the cliffs until they saw the White Walkers sitting at the back of the field each on their horses. Jon drew his sword and the rest of them followed with Dragonglass and valyrian steel. Arya had fashioned hers into a spear tip along with a dragonglass tip on the other end. They all began moving towards the White Walkers and they each turned their heads to the six of them as if they had been expecting their arrival. They kept moving but the White Walkers didn’t move at all, they just kept staring. Eventually they each drew spears and swords as they dismounted from their horses. There were twelve in total meaning the odds were greatly stacked against Jon and the others. Jon ignited his sword surprising the others around him but they didn’t linger on it for too long turning their attention back to the White Walkers in front of them. Jon flourished his sword before they began charging them while the White Walkers sat back and stood waiting for them.  
When Jon, Arya, Brienne, and Jorah collided with the ice spears the collision wrang throughout the field as the battle continued.  
Arya’s superior agility allowed for her to take down one of them with ease.  
Jon was in the midst of fighting off two on each side of him.  
He was able to quickly stab one as it shattered into pieces of ice.  
He was about to get taken down by the other one before Jorah stabbed it in the back, shattering it.  
“JON!” before Jon could thank Jorah he saw Arya just barely fighting off three.  
He and Brienne rushed to her side as they both took one on individually, killing two of them as Arya killed the other. Jon smiled at his sister and he saw the beginnings of a smile that quickly turned into a scream.  
“JON BEHIND YOU!” he turned around quickly to see a spear hurtling towards him, far too close for him to dodge. It made a terrible sound when it impacted flesh, as he flinched and closed his eyes. He heard the dripping of blood on the white snow but felt no pain. He opened his eyes seeing it wasn’t him who had been pierced but Beric who jumped in front of the spear. He fell to his knees as Jon let him down, but there was no time to mourn his fallen comrade as there were still six White Walkers left standing. He looked at them with anger in his eyes as he gripped Longclaw once again and ignited it. He looked to his left and everyone was lined up with their swords ready to fight all looking to Jon before they charged. He spun his sword and gave a nod, with that they all charged forward to finish them off.

***

“FALL BACK!” they screamed. The gates opened to allow for the men outside to rush into the walls as the dead gained more ground and began swarming the walls, piling atop each other creating a tower of bodies to climb. The archers had to eventually abandon their bows and resort to the use of dragonglass swords. Even though many of the dead suddenly collapsed it still wasn’t enough to even the numbers. Once Jaime made it through the gates he immediately climbed up the walls to keep the dead from reaching the top. He saw Davos just barely keeping the dead off of him and Samwell Tarly struggling with even one. Jaime ran over to Davos and fought the remaining dead off of him. He then grabbed him by his breastplate. “We need more men in the godswood! Bran can’t die before the Night King reveals himself!” Davos gave a nod before stabbing a wight approaching from behind. Jaime turned around to continue fighting and Davos began ordering men into the godswood. 

“WE NEED MEN IN THE GODSW-” but his words are cut short as the gates are breached by a giant. The giant begins running through Winterfell stomping and smacking anyone in sight including Lyanna Mormont. But the little bear is a fighter. She rises to her feet screaming as she charges the giant. On the outside she seems fearless but in reality fear is what’s driving her. Not fear for her life but fear for the lives that will be lost of that giant stays standing. The giant hears her screams and picks her up in one hand and begins crushing her and slowly bringing her closer to her face. As he squeezes her armour crumbles around her and her bones begin to break in. But Lyanna’s a fighter and she won’t die without a fight. With one arm free she draws her dragonglass sword and plunges it into the giants eye. The giant lets out a scream before collapsing into pieces as the life from Lyanna’s eyes slowly fades.

Daenerys

Daenerys watched from dragonback as both battles unfolded before her. Jon and his team fought the White Walkers and she was just barely able to distinguish him wielding a flaming sword. She didn’t even know he could ignite his sword but she knew it was him by the way he swung Longclaw. When she looked to her left she could see the battle rage on. The wights had breached their armies and had began entering the castle. You need to kill Viserion, she told herself. Thousands will die if Viserion is still flying. But the screams. Even from atop her perch she could hear the screams of people being slaughtered within the walls. Thousands will die if you do nothing. Daenerys decided to make the quick decision to send Rhaegal to burn the wights, leaving her with just Drogon to fight Viserion, putting her at a slight disadvantage. But once Rhaegal began burning wights she felt better. While the screams were still ever so present they lessened and the armies had a stronger chance at fending off the wights. Then she hears it. As if he was waiting for exactly that, the ever so familiar screech envelops the air and she can just barely see the shadow of a great beast flying above the clouds. With fury in her eyes Daenerys commands Drogon to ascend into the clouds so they can bring peace to her child and his brother. 

Once Daenerys reaches the clouds it was a beautiful sight. The moonlight reflecting off the clouds giving the night an amazing glow. If only she could’ve seen it under different circumstances because the sight before her was anything but pleasant. She flew in place before Viserion with the Night King mounted on his back staring at her with and icy cold stare while Daenerys stared back with fire in her eyes. “Dracarys!” she screamed as Drogon let loose his flames and Viserion did the same. The orange and blue flames collided and erupted the sky into a dance as the blue flames licked Daenerys’ skin while both dragons battled for dominance. Suddenly the blue flames stop bursting and Viserion comes charging through the flames spewed by his brother and they intangle in close range combat. Biting, scratching, clawing. Both dragons tear at each other as Daenerys struggles to hold on and the Night King attempts to aim his spear. His attempts are inconsequential as Drogon knocks him of Viserion’s back with his tail and then tears a hole in his wing sending him plummeting to the ground along with his rider. Daenerys commands Drogon beneath the clouds and sees the Night King landed amongst forest and she won’t be able to find him. She decides it be best to wait for him to reemerge and flies Drogon back to Winterfell to help fight off the wights. 

Jon

They finally had the final White Walker surrounded. Each and everyone of them was battered, beaten, and broken but they were able to kill every single one of them minus the one remaining. He spun in a circle looking at them all and Sandor was the first to attack but this white walker was quicker than the other ones as he dodged his attack followed by Brienne’s. But there were simply too many and he eventually shattered into pieces when Sandor took a final swing. They looked back at the army of the dead which was now being set aflame by Drogon meaning that Daenerys must have defeated Viserion. But even though they just killed all the White Walkers the wights still greatly outnumbered them. “Let’s go back now! Head to the godswood!” Jon screamed as they began running back to Winterfell. Jon stopped suddenly as he heard a dragon screech in the air, he looked up and saw a green scaled dragon descending and then landing in front of him. The rest of the group stopped as well looking on as Jon slowly approaches Rhaegal ungloving his hand and holding it out. Rhaegal allowed him to quickly stroke him before Jon pulled away to focus on getting back to Winterfell. As if Rhaegal knew that’s what he wanted he lowered his shoulder in a way as if asking him to mount so they can fly back to Winterfell. Jon took the hint and began hesitantly mounting onto his back. Once he was comfortable and gripping on tight he began ushering people on. But without warning, Rhaegal took to the skies, leaving the rest of the group behind. Jon tried guiding him back but looked down and saw the wights viciously murdering everyone in sight. Daenerys had told him what words she said to command her dragons and he screamed them at the top of his lungs. “Dracarys!” Jon felt a sudden surge of power course through his veins as Rhaegal began burning them away. He saw the wights being launched into the air by the impact of the flames.

That feeling is stripped from him quickly however as he’s almost completely knocked off Rhaegal’s back when another dragon comes in, clamping down hard on Rhaegal’s neck as he screeches in pain. He looked and saw Viserion with the Night King on his back. Jon looks to Viserion’s wing to see a large portion of it torn through which was keeping him off balance. Rhaegal instinctively targets the wing, tearing it further but not before having his wing torn through as well sending him plummeting to the ground along with Jon. Viserion crashes on top of the wall sending it crumbling down, creating a greater opening.

Jon rises to his feet, clutching his leg. He looks to Rhaegal seeing him on the ground. Not dead but to injured to continue fighting. “I’ve got things from here, you go somewhere safe.” he said. Jon didn’t know if he could understand him but he seemingly did as he struggled to fly off. He turned his attention back to the Night King. He had his back turned and was walking towards Winterfell. Jon took the opportunity to draw his sword and began charging him from behind. But the Night King sensed his presence and turned around to face Jon. He stopped in his tracks, glaring at him angrily as the Night King gave him the same blank stare as he always had. He then saw him begin moving his arms in a slow upwards movement. Jon knew what that meant, he knew that along with the raising of arms came the raising of the dead. Jon then started into a sprint to get to the Night King before he could raise his arms in time. Halfway there and he realised that it would be too late by the time he reached him but he had to try. Unfortunately he was right, he was too late once he reached him he had raised wights all around him. The dead within the walls were completely raised as well. Now all the losses the Night King had suffered had just been added right back to his army. Jon ignited his sword and began cutting through wights trying to reach the Night King but it was no use as he was already beginning to enter the castle walls.

Jon swung tirelessly at the dead swarming him. Blocking, dodging, and striking. But it wasn’t enough and there was simply too many of them. He knew deep down that this was how it ended and he hated the Lord of Light more than ever right then and there. Why bring me back? He thought to himself. How did I possibly make a difference? However the Lord of Light answered as flames erupted around him, killing all the wights surrounding him. He turned his attention behind him to see Daenerys and Drogon setting the wights into flames. “Get on! I’ll bring you to the godswood!” she screamed. Jon ran to Drogon and climbed atop his back. He wrapped his arms around Daenerys tightly from behind before she took off. “Thank you.”

Arya

Arya just made it back to Winterfell to see that it was now completely overrun with wights. She did her best to fight them off but eventually it felt like no use. Every wight that came for her fell but they continued backing her up into the wall until she was barely keeping them from scratching and slicing. She stabbed them through the head, the stomach, the arm, and they fell and fell but there were far too many. Before she could succumb to the wights a hammer smashes one head, then another, then another. Gendry lifted her back to her feet and they fought together back to back. Finally they were beginning to push back as Gendry smashed in their skulls while Arya poked them full of holes. 

Once she was done with the wights on her side she turned around to help Gendry on his side. But she turned around to the horrible sound of a blade piercing flesh. He was stabbed through the hip but continued fighting, sloppier now. Arya tried her best but she couldn’t keep them off Gendry, he over-swung far too much and the weight of his hammer greatly hindered his agility coupled with his wounds. Arya desperately tried to help him but one final stab was dealt and he fell to his knees unable to continue fighting while Arya continued slicing away. Eventually she was able to kill enough to gain time and she rushed to Gendry’s side. She held him in her arms as tears threatened to pour away at seeing him struggle to speak. Any words he attempted to mutter we’re muffled by the blood spilling out of his mouth. Arya couldn’t hold back the tears anymore as they began spilling over his face. He seemed to be attempting to raise his head along with his hand. She followed his arm and his gaze to see what he was pointing at. A huge hoard of wights were charging towards her, far too many for her to kill. She turned back to him as he finally was able to get past the blood filling his mouth as he said his final word. “Run.”

She didn’t want to, she tried to stay but he was gone. The life faded from his eyes and his grip on her loosened. She tried to stay with him but that was no longer an option as the dead were about to swarm her. She took off running towards the inside of the castle in hopes of losing them throughout the intricate halls of Winterfell. Before she can reach the door wights block it off surrounding her and forcing her to fight. She pulls apart her double-bladed staff and started spinning in circles, slashing, stabbing, striking, cutting everything that came near her but it was far too much. She got punched, scratched, sliced, stabbed, and she prepared to welcome the release of death. But not without a fight, if these things are gonna be the things to kill her. They’ll need to earn it. 

A sudden howl halts the commotion around her and the wights all turn their attention behind her. She turns and sees Sandor standing amongst a pack of wolves, with a giant wolf matching his height. Nymeria. He let out a blood curdling scream and charged the crowd of wights. He sliced through the crowd from the outside while Arya took them from the inside. While the wolves helped they were no match for the wights and slowly but surely they each fell one by one. Arya faced off against another hord and when it seemed hopeless, Nymeria grabbed a wight, tearing it limb from limb. They stood back to back, Nymeria growling and Arya spinning her staff. But the wights were cleared spare a few. “Sandor!” she screamed. He was hacking away at a wight flat on its back. He turned and ran towards her pulling into a strange embrace as if he didn’t know how to hug anyone. “Gendry’s dead! He’s gone!” she screamed into his stomach. He pulled her away to stare into her face. “But you’re not!” he screamed. He looked ahead to see more wights coming. “Hey! What do we say to your god huh?! What do we say to the god of death?!” she calmed as the memories of Syrio came flooding back. “Not today,” she said. “You’re damn fucking right not today!” they pulled away from their embrace and readied to fight once again.

Sansa

She stared out the window at the chaos enveloping in the courtyard of Winterfell. Sansa felt a tear trickle down her cheek looking on feeling as helpless as she did in King’s Landing. He took a deep breath and turned around to face Melisandre, the red priestess Jon banished for burning a child. “Why are you back?” she asked accusingly. “Because the lord wills me to be here,” she responded. “Normally when people get banished they don’t come back,” Sansa responded annoyed. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t need to be.”

Jon

Jon maneuvered through the yard of Winterfell, dodging and slicing wights as he ran on his way. “Jon!” he turned at the scream of his name and saw Sam getting piled on by wights. He hesitated for a moment, wanting to stop and help his friend but he kept moving. He needed to get to the godswood and help his brother. As he looked around he saw more familiar faces desperately fighting. Brienne, Podrick, Jaime, and Davos were backed into a corner just barely keeping the wights at bay while, Grey Worm fighting with his spear, and Arya, Sandor, and a giant wolf. He questioned it for a second but ignored it and kept going. He continued slashing wights on his path seeing a rope keeping a gate up he darts straight towards it, cutting it and closing the gate behind him now giving a clearer path spare a few wights. He turned the corner and saw the entrance to the godswood. 

He was thrown into a sprint, completely ignoring everyone around him. But what stopped him was the roar he heard so many times that night. Viserion crawled into the courtyard spewing blue fire in all directions, Jon moved quickly back into the hall away from the fire. The flames licked his sides giving him slight burns but he barely noticed them with the adrenaline coursing through him. Viserion eventually moved on to burning other soldiers. Jon took the opportunity to attempt to get to the godswood. He made it about halfway through the courtyard before he was stopped once again by the blue flames blazing from within Viserion. He appeared to be very weakened. A giant tear in his left wing, half his jaw missing, and multiple holes from the fight in the skies. Jon was only able to get quick glimpses before he had to duck his head behind cover again to avoid getting his head singed. Jon was now the only one left in the courtyard and Viserion was now entirely focused on him. He slowly stalked towards the cover Jon was hiding behind and Jon felt the end fast approaching. He then heard sudden footsteps pittering across the tiles of the rooftops. He only caught a quick glimpse before his cover was blasted with flames once more. “Jon!” she heard the yell of Arya and knew she was the one on the rooftops. Viserion’s fire blasts halted and he turned his attention to Jon’s sister who was out in the open with no cover. She might’ve been distracting Viserion to allow Jon to run to the godswood but he wouldn’t let his sister die for him, not today. He stood up from his cover and stood before Viserion screaming at the top of his lungs to keep his attention away from Arya. Viserion took the bait and turned right back to Jon, raising his head as blue flames generated within his mouth. He was ready to blast him and Arya seized the opportunity to leap from the rooftops. She whipped out her valyrian steel dagger and shoved it through Viserion’s eye. His body collapsed to the ground, disintegrating until all that was left was bone.

Jon turned to look at his sister in complete shock. “We need to get to Bran!” she screamed stumbling back to her feet. “No! I’ll go, you get evacuate the everyone else!” Arya hesitated but nodded and ran in the opposite direction as Jon ran towards the godswood.

Theon

It wasn’t long before the godswood became almost completely swarmed and Theon was now the only ironborn soldier left standing. The wights had grown less by the time the last ironborn warrior fell. Theon was able to take them down as his muscles ached and his ribs felt broken from the abuse he suffered trying to keep Bran alive before the Night King arrived. He saw the undead dragon crawling into the courtyard of Winterfell just above the wall of the godswood. He paid little attention to it as another wave of wights came charging in. He looked ahead at the hoard charging towards him and knew he failed. He turned back to Bran to give him a solemn look, a silent apology. He turned back gripping his staff so strongly he thought it might snap. 

The hoard charged him and he was ready to give his life to fight a hopeless fight. Before the first wight reached him a sword swung at it. While he couldn’t get a clear view of who it was he recognized the sword he was wielding and the hilt. He had been gifted that sword earlier that night and he saw Jorah Mormont there fighting alongside him. They were both battered, beaten, and stabbed but they somehow continued fighting. A stab in Theon’s ribs brings him to one knee but he continues fighting from there, Jorah in front of him to help. Theon finds himself nearly physically incapable of fighting and starts crawling back towards the weirwood tree for support. Bran eyes him emotionless as ever. “You have done all you can Theon,” he said. Theon nodded in disagreeance. He wasn’t done, he couldn’t be done. Not until he knew Bran was safe. Not until he knew he didn’t fail. “I’m not done yet,” he struggled to say. Bran nodded in understanding. “You’re a good man, thank you.” they were once again simple words but they once again gave Theon some hidden strength to fight as he rose to his feet. As he rose his head he saw two wights charging towards Bran from behind. He leaped ahead and blocked the first one but was stabbed through the gut by the second one. He stabbed both of them before he collapsed to his side turning around back to Bran. He should be thinking he failed. That it was all pointless in the end. That just like his entire life he couldn’t make a difference. But some part of him told him he did, that his efforts weren’t for nothing and he didn’t fail. He made a difference and somehow he could die in peace.

Jorah

As Theon Greyjoy died behind him Jorah turned and cut down the last of the wights. He was on one knee, tired from fighting and hurt from the cuts. He looked up as he was surrounded by wights all staring at him with their blue eyes. But those weren’t the blue eyes that haunted him, the blue eyes that terrified him were the eyes plastered over the face of a White Walker. He wasn’t like the other ones. He didn’t have long flowing hair, he had no hair at all and had thorns sticking out of his head as if it were a crown. The Night King. This was the one whom Jon had described. The one who if he fell would end the war and end the wights along with the White Walkers. Jorah knew what he had to do even if he was completely surrounded he had to find a way to kill the Night King. He rose to his feet carried by an unknown strength and took his stance. The Night King advanced while the wights did not. He drew his sword and stood there motionless, not taking a stance and having his sword remain at his side. It was to Jorah to make the first move, so he did. The way the Night King fought was strange, he didn’t once move his feet or move his head to dodge, he just blocked every single attack Jorah threw at him. Jorah swung in every way he knew hoping one attack would land but he couldn’t get past the Night King’s sword of ice. But then he saw it, an opening. He hit the Night King’s sword away and he struck him on the side. It’s over. Jorah thought It’s finally over. But he didn’t smile with relief. Because he didn’t hear it. He didn’t hear the shatter that he heard in the field when fighting the other White Walkers. He didn’t see the ground riddled with the thousand shards of ice, only a few shards from the Night King’s armour. He rose his eyes to see the Night King still standing there, unmoving and unbroken. Jorah looked to his sword, he clearly struck the Night King. But he didn’t shatter. Jorah removed his sword and struck again. This time the Night King didn’t move to block, he just stood there. Jorah tried once more and it was no use, he couldn’t kill him. But he kept trying, striking him in everyplace on his body hoping some place would eventually make him shatter. But he never did. Once he attempted to strike the Night King’s chest that was when he put an end to this game and he stabbed Jorah through the stomach. Jorah fell to the ground now finally unable to move. He stared up at the Night King as he stared back at him coughing up blood. His last thoughts as he died were of the woman he loved. Conquer the world Daenerys, he thought as he died. I wish I could be there to see it.

***

The Night King slowly stalked up to the Three-Eyed Raven. He sat there not moving, not turning his head to look at him. His steps were slow, the only sounds being the crunch of snow beneath his feet and the crackling of the fire burning down the forest. His steps came to a halt and he stared down at Bran. Bran finally turned his head to look up at him, staring at him unintimidated. They stood there for a few more seconds before the Night King reached out his hand and placed his fingers on Bran’s forehead. Bran’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he absorbed it all. They stood there for near a minute before the Night King pulled away, Bran’s eyes still rolled into the back of his head. Flames erupted around them as Drogon descended into the godswood. Daenerys slid off Drogon’s back and angrily stared at the Night King as he stared back at her. But she quickly broke the gaze as she grabbed Bran and flew off. The Night King walked away as his army followed suit. “WE NEED TO LEAVE!” Jon screamed. The rest of the army ran through the holes in the walls and sprinted away as fast as they could. The army of the dead had just exited the godswood and was now hot on their tail. He saw Arya with Sansa, Tyrion, and the rest running behind her. As Jon ran he saw a familiar face, the only one walking in the opposite direction. He recognized the red cloak and the red gem chained around her neck. He grabbed her arm to stop her. “Melisandre! We need to leave!” he screamed. But she just gave him a nod. “You do,” she said. He didn’t know why but he let go of her and allowed her to continue walking. Drogon landed in front of him. “Get on!” Daenerys screamed and he mounted Drogon taking one last look before they took off. Melisandre walked towards the oncoming hoard screaming prayers as she unhooked her necklace and her true form started to take. She then came to a stop as she slammed the gem to the ground, shattering it. A giant wall of fire emerged, as tall as the wall of ice. And almost just as long. She succumbed to the loss of the gemEveryone looked back briefly before running away once more. She allowed them to escape but it didn’t matter. With the dead raised from the fallen at Winterfell the Night King’s numbers barely depleted while the livings’ numbers were severely lessened. They lost.


	4. Episode 4: The Coin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The living recover from the battle against the dead.

Daenerys

A fortnight after the loss at the Battle of Ice and Fire the remaining living forces retreated to Dragonstone. The sun has set and darkness has enveloped the sky. The remaining leaders stand around the painted table and discuss their losses and how they’re possibly going to fight back now. Around the table sits Jon, Grey Worm, Varys, Tyrion, Jaime, Sansa, and Arya. They finally received a final count on the Unsullied and Dothraki. “Half of Unsullied are gone,” Grey Worm said as he pulled pieces from the board and threw them into the flames of the hearth. “13,000 bloodriders are left khaleesi,” said one of her bloodriders in dothraki copying the actions of Grey Worm. She turned her head to meet Jon who had been looking away from her the entire meeting. “How many northerners and knights of the vale remain?” she asked. She was annoyed by his distance during this meeting but just as annoyed as she was concerned. “Still waiting on an official count,” he finally said, she turned to Varys. “Have you sent word to Yara Greyjoy,” she asked. “I have, however ferrying the dornish army would take far too much time. We don’t know how much time because the only person who can tell us is currently in a deep sleep,” Varys said. Ever since his confrontation with the Night King, Bran had not awoken but was still breathing. “The Second Sons numbers have grown exponentially, they now command a force of 10,000. In order for you to retain the peace in Meereen they would only be able to send 8,000.” Varys finished. “Good send for them,” she said. “I already have your grace,” he said. Sudden realization came to her head. “Daario won’t be coming correct,” she said hoping he wouldn’t but knowing Daario he probably would. “I’m afraid he insisted your grace,” he responded. “Of course he did,” she huffed. She looked right at Jon who for the first time that meeting met her gaze. “Who’s Daario?” he asked. Daenerys began stuttering before Tyrion interjected. “Ex-lover,” he said. Jon closed his eyes and sighed. “Of course he is,” he said. Tyrion gave a tired look to Jon after he said this. “Emphasis on ‘ex’,” he said. Jon nodded looking to his side. 

“So what’s the next move?” Tyrion asked. Daenerys walked around the board and landed on King’s Landing. “We can’t fight the army of the dead this close to Cersei, so we take King’s Landing.” she said. Sansa looked at her annoyed. “We’re in the middle of the Great War and you want us to go right back into your war?” she said. “We cannot fight them with Cersei right behind us while we barely have an army,” Daenerys argued. Her calm tone somehow more intimidating than angry yelling. “We won’t have any army at all if we storm King’s Landing!” she screamed. “Or maybe it’ll be bigger,” Tyrion said as he stood from his chair, tossing his wine glass to his side. “Most of the Lannister forces fight for Cersei because they fear her, if we take King’s Landing with as little bloodshed as possible, we could recruit the Lannister forces into our armies and intimidate the Golden Company with Drogon and Rhaegal into fighting with us without pay.” Tyrion spoke. “Euron Greyjoy will have the iron fleet here,” he said pointing to Blackwater Bay right next to the Red Keep. “Unfortunately he will never bend the knee and most likely neither will his warriors therefore that would be 8,000 good men gone,” Tyrion sighed. “Well we have a faceless assassin right here,” Sansa argued pointing to Arya. “Should we not just send her to kill Cersei?” “Cersei will be taking every precaution there is. She is well aware of the existence of the faceless men and will only allow a select few near her.” Jaime said. 

“Gather our forces,” she said to her hand. “We storm the city in four days.” Varys immediately halted this suggestion. “If we storm the city then thousands of innocents will die, believe me this is not the right way” Varys said. “Thousands more innocents will die if we don’t take the city,” Daenerys responded giving her advisor a nasty glare. “We storm the city.” Varys then turned to Jon in hopes he could sway her. “She listens to you, convince her this isn’t right.” Varys said. Jon gave him a gave him an unreadable glare before he answered. “We storm the city.” Varys closed his eyes and sighed before Daenerys dismissed her council. As everyone cleared out Varys was the last to leave eyeing Daenerys with his chin held up before bowing and exiting the room. The only ones remaining being Jon and Daenerys.

Jon

Daenerys stood at the window looking out at the bay. You have to tell her. A voice said in the back of his head. It will be worse the longer you wait. He approached her hesitantly before joining her at the window. They stood there for a good minute before Daenerys broke the silence. “Ser Jorah was with me since I was sold to Drogo. He always stood by my side and even when I banished him he still refused to leave.” Jon nodded feeling sorrow for the old knight. He had come to respect and even forgive him for his past crimes that lead him to Daenerys. He was grateful to him for being there for her always and protecting her for all these years. “And his reasons were because he loved me.” Jon nodded knowingly at this. He’d observed the way he acted around Daenerys and his infatuation for her was obvious. “And my biggest regret is that I couldn’t reciprocate his feelings. I couldn’t love him.” she paused before continuing. “The way I love you,” she finished. Jon turned to her in shock. No. He thought. Why would you say that now? She turned to him expectantly but he couldn’t muster the words. Daenerys sighed in disappointment and turned to leave.   
Jon snapped out of his trance and grabbed her wrist. “Daenerys wait,” she hesitated to look at him at first but when she looked back she found his eyes were starting to fill with tears. She quickly moved to him, wiping away his tear stained cheeks. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked. This just filled Jon with more guilt knowing what he was about to tell her. “You can talk to me,” she said cupping his face. “It’s not an easy thing to talk about,” he said with more tears spilling from his eyes and Daenerys still wiping them away. “Do you remember when you found me asleep in the crypts?” he asked. “I remember,” Daenerys responded. “You were crying then as you’re crying now.” He nodded as tears continued pouring out and she did her best to keep them at bay. “Do you remember where I was sleeping?” Jon asked. Daenerys looked away to think for a moment and then remembered. “You were behind a woman’s tomb.” Jon nodded and continued. “That was Lyanna Stark. I was told the previous night that the Robert’s Rebellion was built on a lie. That in reality Rhaegar and Lyanna were in love and happily married.” Daenerys looked at him in confusion and a hint of joy. “Well I mean it’s nice to know that my brother wasn’t the monster everyone made him out to be but I fail to see what this has to do with you.” she said. “From their love came a child,” he said. Daenerys’ breath hitched in her throat and she removed her hands from his face, now allowing his tears to drop freely. She gripped the table for balance realizing what he was saying. “My real name is Aegon Targaryen,” he finished. Now it was Daenerys’ turn to fight back the tears. “Who told you this?” she asked. “Bran saw it in a vision and Samwell confirmed the marriage in a high septon’s diary,” he responded. She removed her hands from the table and slowly walked towards him as a few tears started trickling. “What happens to us?” she asked. We can’t. He thought. We can’t, right? But those weren’t the words that came out. “I need time,” he said. It was a lie, he knew he couldn’t but for some reason he didn’t say that. She sighed as she bowed her head but when she raised it again her expression became more serious. 

“And then there’s the matter of the throne,” she said.Jon was taken aback by this. How could this possibly be on her mind right now? He thought. “That’s what you’re thinking about?” he asked as the tears stopped pouring and he began to grow irritated.“No matter what I do people always assume I am my father, what happens when they find out about you and try to place you on the throne instead of me?” she asked.“I will refuse, I don’t want that damn throne and I won’t let anybody put me on it!” he yelled. He didn’t know where all of this was coming from.Now her expression changed to one of worry as she came closer to him. “Please, don’t tell anyone, you know what will happen if you do.” she argued.And he did know what would happen if Sansa knew. If tonight was any evidence she would gladly take any opportunity to boot Daenerys off the throne.“I will tell Sansa and Arya once you have been coronated,” he said “Sansa will scheme to get me off the throne once I have it and you will be forced to take it.” she argued. Jon didn’t want to admit it but deep down he knew it. Sansa might’ve been smarter now but her distrust for everyone would get her in serious trouble one of these days. “There is a solution to it.” This caught Daenerys’ attention as she eyed him intently. “I still have a bastard’s name, legitimize me, make me a Stark. The Starks don’t have claims to the throne.” She looked down clearly disappointed as it wasn’t the solution she was hoping for. She looked up at Jon’s face and couldn’t believe that he was her brother’s son, her nephew. She needed time to process it, she needed to be alone and as far away from him as possible. “Goodnight,” she said. “Jon Stark,” with that she left the room distraught. When she left the room the hall was empty but little did she know that the spider was just beyond that door moments before, listening intently to the revelation. But little did he know of who was around the corner watching him.

Tyrion

In the throne room of Dragonstone Tyrion sat on the stairs drinking wine from the bottle. They just lost to the Night King and now they were going off to fight Cersei in a war they weren’t prepared for. He sat there in the throne room drinking his sorrows away wondering who’s going to kill him first, his sister or the ice zombie. The large, intricate doors of the throne room opened as Varys strode in and took a seat next to Tyrion. Tyrion barely acknowledged his presence and continued drinking. After Varys made himself as comfortable as can be on the steps leading to the strange jagged throne he started talking. “I must say I received some rather interesting news,” he started however Tyrion was not particularly interested in this news. “What news could possibly be so interesting at this point?” Tyrion asked. He was tired and just wanted to drink until the Night King and his army finally caught up to them. “The greatest secret in history that Ned Stark took to his grave.” This finally intrigued Tyrion. Ned Stark wasn’t the kind of man to keep secrets. If it was one he was willing to take to his death then it must be earth shattering. “Well, would you care to share it?” Tyrion motioned his hand in a way for Varys to continue. “I have just discovered that Daenerys is not the rightful heir to the iron throne.” he said abruptly. Tyrion spit out his drink and coughed uncontrollably. Once his coughs eventually ceased he was able to squeak out a “what?” 

“Before Rhaegar’s death he supposedly had an annulment to his marriage with Elia Martell. Married another woman and had a trueborn son.” Varys said. Tyrion couldn’t believe his ears, but he knew his friend as a schemer and wasn’t terribly convinced. “And what was the source of your information?” Tyrion asked. “The man himself,” he answered. Tyrion had no understanding of when he could’ve possibly sent little birds to have this man openly admit he’s the rightful heir to the throne. But he was a threat and he would need to deal with him as Hand of the Queen. “Well where is he?” Tyrion asked. “Last I saw him he was in the room of the painted table having a conversation with Daenerys about this very subject,” he answered. Tyrion froze as his half drunk mind started putting the pieces together. He couldn’t believe it and he almost refused to but as he thought about it more and more the more it started to make sense. What secret would Ned Stark take to the grave other then the fact that he was harboring the last living son of Rhaegar Targaryen. “You’re telling me…” Tyrion didn’t want to say the words as if saying it would make it real. “Jon Snow’s actual name is Aegon Targaryen and he is the rightful heir to the iron throne,” Varys said. Tyrion put his glass down and leaned back onto the stairs, exhaling audibly. “Well this certainly causes problems,” he said. “Or perhaps it solves them,” Varys countered. Tyrion rose back to a sitting position realizing what his friend was suggesting. “What?” Tyrion questioned. 

“Do you remember Meereen?” Varys asked. “It’s rather hard to forget,” Tyrion answered. “Do you remember the extreme lack of peace that our Queen did a rather terrible job at maintaining?” Tyrion thought back and remembered that times of peace were hard to come by in Meereen and when they did come they usually were followed by large scale attacks. “The lord of Westeros aren’t the same as the masters, Daenerys can keep them in line.” Tyrion argued. “And how would she do that? You’ve seen how she treats people who step out of line, crucified the masters, allowed her brother to have his head doused in hot gold, burned the khals of the Vaes Dothrak alive.” Tyrion was taken aback by his friends sudden turn against Daenerys. “What are you suggesting?” he asked. “Who do you believe would be a better ruler? Jon or Daenerys?” Tyrion’s face contorted into a frown at Varys’ question. “Believe me our beloved Queen is not the only one who executes people who betray her,” Tyrion said angrily. “Do you remember Janos Slynt?” Tyrion asked. “I do, he led the City Watch during the Massacre in King’s Landing when Robert’s bastards were all murdered.” Varys answered. “Yes, I sent him to the wall. He was there when Jon Snow elected Lord Commander.” Tyrion said before taking another sip of his wine. “I was having a drink with Jon one night when he first came to Dragonstone and asked him what happened to Janos.” Tyrion continued. “And what happened?” Varys asked even though he had guessed what had happened at that point. “He executed him for not obeying orders,” Tyrion answered. “You see, Daenerys isn’t the only leader who executes people who step out of line.” he finished. “But how did he execute Janos?” Varys asked. Realization at what his friend was getting at this time made Tyrion hesitate before answering. “Beheading,” he answered. “And how does our Queen execute people?” Varys asked. “Normally with Drogon,” Tyrion answered looking down at his wine glass and swirling it around. 

“I’m afraid that our queen has been teetering on the edge for some time now and is beginning to teeter and little too far to one side,” Tyrion’s head shot up as he said this. “Just because her last name is Targaryen doesn’t make her mad!” Tyrion’s anger started to grow at his friends ignorance. Varys stood up now brushing himself off and straightening his clothes. “I served a mad Targaryen once before and will not do so again,” Varys said placing his hands back within his sleeves. Now Tyrion stood up on the stairs. “Whatever you are thinking I believe you should rethink it. I will not tell Daenerys of what you’ve told me in light of everything you have done for me as long as you do not act on these notions of yours.” Tyrion pleaded with Varys, he knew where each choice would lead and they all led to the same destination for his friend. “I will do what I believe is best and I suggest you do the same,” Varys said before leaving Tyrion alone in the throne room to contemplate what to do next. As Varys opened the doors the hall was empty except it was not empty moments before. The same person who observed from around the corner as he listened to Jon and Daenerys conversed overheard the entire conversation that just occured between the dwarf and the eunuch.

Jaime

It was early morning and the sun was shining high in the sky. It was a beautiful day with not a cloud in sight. Jaime remembered that day in the dragonpit when he first saw a wight. He knew they were a threat but he never expected something of this magnitude. The sheer ferocity at which they fought and the Night King himself terrified him. Made his sister look like just another soldier. But Jaime knew she wasn’t, his sister was smart and she would have something planned for Daenerys. He needed to try to convince her of a different way of defeating his sister, he didn’t know what that way was but maybe he could convince her to wait a few more days to review their strategy. He entered the room of the painted table and found Daenerys staring out the window watching her dragons flying across Blackwater Bay. Drogon appeared to be nearly perfectly fine but Rhaegal had holes torn through his wings and was struggling to retrieve fish out of the water. He cleared his throat but her she kept her attention to the outside. He decided he would just join her at the window, when he did she found she was staring at Jon Snow and Ghost sleeping in the grass. He looked at her and she seemed to be saddened by the sight but he decided not to talk to her about it. 

Jaime cleared his throat once more and she finally gave him her attention. Her mistrust for him was still ever so evident but at least she wasn’t desperate to kill him every time she saw his face. He took a deep breath before getting to what he wanted to discuss with her. “Your grace I’m here to ask that you delay the attack on King’s Landing to think through our strategy more,” Jaime said. Daenerys’ eyes grew angrier and more mistrustful. “I know my sister your grace, she’ll be expecting the attack and she’ll have something planned believe me we have some time we should rethink our strategy.” Jaime said not looking Daenerys in the eyes, feeling shame every time he did. “Or perhaps you are conspiring with your sister to give her more time for this ‘plan’ you say she has,” Daenerys said turning back to the window. Jaime was shocked that she didn’t even consider for a moment what he was trying to tell her. “Your grace I-” “Enough Ser Jaime you may leave now,” she interrupted. He realised there was no swaying her and he would need to take matters into his own hands. He gave a short bow before dismissing himself and leaving.

Jaime spent the rest of the day in his room sleeping and waiting for the day to end and darkness to envelop the sky. Once it did he left his room, hooded with a glove over his golden hand. He left down to the docks to find a rowboat. He descended down the long stairs avoiding unsullied guards and dothraki on his way. Once he reached the bottom he was met with someone he didn’t expect to see. Tyrion stood by a boat with a torch in hand and a boat filled with supplies. “Going somewhere?” he said raising his eyebrows. “The Red Keep,” Jaime nodded. Tyrion started walking towards him his eyes filled with concern. “Why are you going back to her?” he asked clearly misunderstanding Jaime’s motives. “Cersei has something planned, I don’t know what it is but if past events are any indication it could result in the deaths of thousands.” he answered as realisation started to come into his brothers eyes before he continued. “I might be the only one who can convince her otherwise,” Jaime said. But Tyrion nodded his head in disagreeance. “She’s too far gone brother, you can’t save her.” Tyrion said. “Maybe not, but maybe I can save all those people in King’s Landing, innocent of otherwise.” Jaime said. Tyrion breath got heavier as tears started appearing in his eyes. “You do know that the likelihood of your return is unlikely,” Tyrion stated. “I do,” Jaime responded. He quickly dropped to one knee to bring his brother in for a tight hug before pulling away and looking into his eyes. “I’ll be alright brother, don’t worry yourself too much.” he said. Tyrion nodded as Jaime pulled away and entered the row boat. It brought some form of joy to watch his brother attempt to row with one hand. Tyrion stood there on the dock until Jaime grew into a speck in the distance. He let out a sigh and then turned around to head back into the castle.


	5. Episode 5: The Red Keep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys' forces battle for King's Landing

Rhaegar Targaryen had his marriage annulled to Elia Martell and married Lyanna Stark in a secret ceremony in Dorne. Their child has been hidden by Eddard Stark under the name Jon Snow and is rightful heir to the iron throne.

It was the first of many letters Varys had written that day to the lords of the seven kingdoms, he hadn’t sent them out yet but he was in preparation to do so when a knock came to his door. He immediately hid the letters before sending whoever was on the other side of the door in. Martha entered the room at the exact time he had asked her to meet him. Martha was one of his new little birds that was still getting used to the employment. “You wanted to see me lord Varys?” Martha questioned shyly. 

“I did,” he said, pulling out a chair. He took tray of soup with a drink and gave it to her. “For Queen Daenerys,” he said. 

Martha raised her head from the tray in her hands and raised her eyebrows at him. “Poisoned?” she asked. 

Varys smiled at this. “You pick up fast,” he said. “Nightshade, it will be painless.” he said. Martha nodded and took the tray into the hall and to the Queen who was sitting in the room of the painted table. 

“Your grace?” she asked as she entered through the door. Daenerys turned to her and smiled. 

“Hello,” she said. “For me?” she asked pointing to the tray. The girl nodded and placed it on the table as Daenerys moved towards it. “Thank you, I’ve been rather hungry as of late.” she said. 

Before she could lift the drink to her mouth the girl spoke. “It’s poisoned,” she said. Daenerys was shocked by this sudden statement and dropped the glass from her hand, looking at the young girl. The girl now held her hands behind her back and was standing very calmly. 

“Excuse me?” Daenerys said growing surprisingly angry at this little girl. “You’re trying to kill me?” Dany accused. 

“I wouldn’t have told you if I was trying to kill you,” the girl responded. The girl calmly moved towards the bowl of soup and picked it up, swirling it and smelling. “Ten drops of nightshade, would send you right into a sleep you would never wake from.” she said. 

“Who wants to have me killed?” Daenerys asked. The girl decided not to give a straight answer. “You’re a dragon,” she said. “Dragons don’t get caught in the webs of a spider.” the girl turned around, hands behind her back as she calmly exited the room. 

Daenerys knew exactly of what the little girl was talking of and rushed out of the room taking her guards with her. Once she arrived at his door she slammed it open, nearly breaking it. “Take him!” she screamed as her unsullied soldiers took Varys without hesitation. She approached the table and saw the letters all written detailing Jon’s origins. She would question how he got the information later, now she wanted him out of her sight. “Take him to the cells for now and make sure his ‘little birds’ don’t leave their chambers,” the unsullied walked Varys out of the room and escorted him to the cells. She took the letters and threw them into the hearth before storming out of the room.

JON

Jon stood in front of the door before placing three knocks. “Come in,” he heard on the other side before he entered. He saw Sam sitting on a chair next to Bran and Gilly in the corner with Little Sam. 

“Any change?” Jon asked. Sam looked at him as his lips pressed together and nodded. 

“No, sorry.” Sam responded. Jon closed his eyes and sighed before taking a seat next to his brother. 

“The Night King was right there in front of him, but he didn’t kill him.” Jon said. 

“So I’ve heard,” Sam responded. 

“Why?” Jon asked knowing Sam didn’t have the answer. 

“Those aren’t the kinds of questions I was trained to answer,” Sam said with some hint of humour in his voice which Jon couldn’t help but give a small smile to. Jon felt something tugging on his cloak and turned around to see Little Sam. 

“He wants to play with you,” Gilly said from the corner. Jon smiled and got down on his knees to match Little Sam’s height. 

“Hi there,” he mumbled. Little Sam smiled and grabbed his nose squeezing it. Jon laughed and gently removed his hand from his nose as Little Sam grabbed finger. 

“Jon, I was wondering.” Sam said abruptly. Jon turned his attention to Sam still keeping his light grip on Little Sam’s hand. 

“Yes Sam?” he asked. 

“I was just wondering, if you wouldn’t mind. I mean if it’s not too much trouble.” Sam was struggling to get out the words so Gilly had to intervene. 

“If you would like to be the godfather,” she said. Jon looked back at Sam with wide eyes but smiled and pulled his friend into a hug. 

“I would be honoured,” Jon said. Once he released Sam from his hug he went back to playing with his godson.

“Ahem,” Jon turns and sees Daenerys standing in the doorway. “Jon, may I speak with you alone?” she asked. Jon nodded and gave Little Sam a rub on the head before leaving to follow Daenerys. They went to the room of the painted table and once Jon closed the door, Daenerys immediately whipped herself around. “Do you think I’m mad?” she asked with worry in her eyes. 

“No Dany of course not. Where is this coming from?” Jon didn’t understand the doubts she was having now, she was always so sure she wasn’t her father.

“Varys tried to have me poisoned this morning because he believes I am,” Daenerys said. The wolf inside Jon began awakening at hearing this news. Varys tried to have her killed without a second thought, he didn’t understand why anybody took him as their advisors considering easily he chose different rulers. “One of his little birds told me, I plan to execute him tonight.” she said in her queenly tone. 

“Good,” he responded quickly. Her queenly demeanor dropped and she started walking towards him slowly. 

“Have you had time?” she asked. “To think.” Before Jon could answer Tyrion came through the door. 

“Your grace, the Second Sons are here.” he said. Daenerys gave a nod and left the room to go greet them.

Jon, Daenerys, and Tyrion descended the stairs to see Sansa, Arya, and Brienne already waiting there for them. They saw a large fleet of ships heading in their direction along with a lone boat. He could make out the figure of a woman with a sword at the hilt assuming it was Theon’s sister Yara. And beside her a man, sadly too good looking for Jon’s liking. He assumed this to be Daario. Once they got off the boat Yara greeted Daenerys with a handshake and came right to Jon. “Your brother…” he started. 

“I know,” she said. There was a pause before she continued. “Did he die brave?” Jon nodded and she seemed proud but saw the look of sadness on her face which she managed to mask. Jon then saw the man get off his boat and make a beeline for Daenerys, kneeling at her feet. 

“My queen, I missed you terribly.” he said. 

“Rise commander Naharis,” she said with her hands folded in front of her. He looked up into her eyes before he rose to his feet. “This is Jon Stark, the warden of the North” Daenerys said motioning her hand towards Jon. 

Both her sisters snapped their heads towards him. “Stark?” they said in unison. 

“We’ll talk about it later,” he said silently asking them to calm down. Jon reached his hand out. “Nice to meet you Daario Naharis,” he said not at all sounding like it. 

“Nice to meet you to,” he said with the same tone. They stood there a few more seconds staring each other down before Daenerys cleared her throat. 

“I’m sure you’re very tired from your travels, please follow me and we will guide you to your chambers.” Daenerys said turning around. “Later tonight we’re having a meeting to discuss how to defeat the Golden Company,” Daenerys said over her shoulder.

Eventually Sansa couldn’t contain herself any longer. “So, not Jon Snow anymore.” she said. 

“Aye,” Jon responded. 

“I must say that Jon Stark doesn’t quite role of the tongue quite as well,” she joked. 

“It doesn’t matter what my name is, I’ll always be Jon Snow.” he said. His answer confused Sansa because ever since he was a little boy all he wanted was to be a Stark but he didn’t seem too enthusiastic about it. She looked at Arya and for some reason she seemed to know why but Sansa figured she wouldn’t try to figure it out in the open. 

Later that night.

The men commanding her armies were all gathered around and began discussing their courses of action. “What did the Golden Company bring?” Daario asked. 

“18,000 infantrymen and 2,000 cavalry.” Jon answered. 

“No elephants?” Daario asked raising an eyebrow. Jaime had informed them that they had not brought any elephants. While Jon still had doubts about him he was for some strange reason beginning to trust the kingslayer. 

“No elephants,” Jon answered. Daario sighed with relief. 

“Well that’ll make things easier.” Jon moved around the map. 

“The Golden Company will be meeting us here right outside the walls while the Lannister forces will be manning the city. The Iron Fleet will be here.” Jon said pointing to Blackwater Bay. Daario then decided to cut in. 

“We have two dragons,” Daario said.

“One, Rhaegal is still far too injured.” Jon corrected

“Fine. We’ll have Drogon burn the Golden Company then storm the city,” Daario said as a command and not a suggestion. 

“The goal is to gain back the soldiers we lost which includes the Golden Company,” Jon said. 

“And how do you plan on doing that?” Daario asked smugly. 

“We still have 13,000 Dothraki. ‘Only a fool would meet the dothraki in an open field.’” Jon remembered hearing that somewhere but couldn’t quite place it, but if what Tyrion had told him about the Battle of the Goldroad then whoever said it wasn’t lying. 

“Well only a fool would meet the Golden Company at all, let alone try to defeat them without killing them,” Daario said. 

“Oh believe me we’re going to kill them but we need to keep as many alive as possible!” Jon said beginning to raise his voice. 

“These are the best mercenaries in Essos I know far more about them than you do and they don’t surrender if the money’s good!” Daario said his voice getting equally as loud while Daenerys sat there looking tired of all the squabbling. 

“Well there’s a first time for everything,” Jon said, lowering his voice. “Well believe me that first time won’t be tomorrow,” Daario retorqued. Then Daenerys finally intervened. 

“Alright enough!” she screamed. “You’re both acting like children not the leaders of my armies, both of you go to bed now.” they both sighed as Jon got up and left Daario stayed.

DAENERYS

“I missed you,” Daario said reaching for her hand only grazing it before Daenerys pulled away. Daario looked at the ground in defeat. “Who is it?” Daario asked. 

“What do you mean?” Daenerys asked raising an eyebrow. 

“It’s Jon Stark isn’t it,” he said not really needing the confirmation. 

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” she snapped immediately feeling guilty. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped and started moving towards the door but before he left he spoke one more time. 

“Tell me this at least. If I had come with you, would it have been different?” when Daenerys didn’t answer he left slamming his door on the way out.

(Quick Varys POV before returning to Dany)

Varys sits alone in his cell with his hands in his sleeves staring intently at the door. He had been in there all day now and was hoping that his little birds weren’t being given the same treatment he was receiving. Especially Martha, she had been the sweetest bird he had ever taken into his employment and was hoping he would be working with her for a long time. Unfortunately a long time has been cut short as tonight is most likely his last night in this world. He knew how his queen enjoyed to execute her subjects and planned to use this to show how she’s becoming just like her father. If he was going to die, he would die completing his mission. He turned his head when the lock on his door clicked and opened. Two unsullied guards came in with Grey Worm in the middle. He pulled cuffs out from behind him and Varys held out his hands. The walk to the execution area was long and Varys nearly tripped five times on his way due to the unsullied’s constant pace.

(Back to Daenerys)

She saw him come around the corner of the beach as she observed his face. While on the outside it didn’t seem like he was worried she knew how to recognize eyes. She’d seen many eyes that showed many emotions in her time. She’d seen eyes that showed happiness, sadness, anger, envy, determination, madness, love. And she knew fearful eyes when she saw them. Grey Worm delivered Varys in front of her, her two dragons directly behind. Only two others are currently present, them being Daario and Tyrion. Her Hand looked at his old friend with sadness but acceptance and Daario looked at him with pure hatred after he had been told what he had done. She once again turned her eyes back to Varys and his eyes still held the fear she knew. She wondered what people saw in her eyes, she wondered what Varys saw right now. Do they see madness, is that what influenced Varys, or did some see what the former slaves saw? Kindness. Is that what she would see if she looked into her own eyes, or would she see what everyone else in Westeros saw. Madness.

The Spider then opened his mouth. “I see the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” he said motioning his head towards the dragons. “King Aerys’ favourite form of execution was live cremation after all, you are your father’s daughter.” he said but not really to her but rather more to Tyrion. 

“Unfortunately she won’t be the one executing you,” said a voice from behind. Varys turned his head to see Jon approaching from behind. While his eyes shifted to disappointment that he wouldn’t be able to prove his point he also looked relieved. 

“Oh good, quick death, I suppose I should get on my knees.” Varys said as he began kneeling before Jon stopped him. 

“There’s no need for that,” as Jon said that Rhaegal began advancing slowly from behind him and the fear once again returned to Varys’ eyes. 

“This isn’t you, this is her in your head.” Varys said almost pleading. 

“I like her up here,” Jon responded without emotion. “In the name of Daenerys of the House Targaryen, first of her name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and the Protector of the Realm. I, Jon of the House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, sentence you to die.” after he finished Jon took a step back before he said it. “Dracarys,” he said it quietly but Rhaegal heard him. Varys didn’t scream as it was over quickly but Tyrion’s eyes showed horror at Varys’ charred remains. Daario’s eyes showed confusion as he had only ever heard Daenerys able to command her dragons. Grey Worm’s eyes showed respect to Jon for the execution. But Jon’s eyes, she didn’t place the emotion in Jon’s eyes. She didn’t see shame or ruthlessness or pride. She saw a wolf with dragon’s blood.

DAENERYS

Daenerys sat in the room of the painted table in front of the hearth with Missandei on the other side. Normally they would be talking about the dragons or the plans for Westeros or their past or men but tonight was rather silent. The silence was broken when the oldest Stark sister entered the room. “May I speak with her grace alone?” Sansa asked. Daenerys wasn’t in the mood to get into it with Sansa again but decided it would be worse if she denied her. She nodded and Missandei left the room after giving Sansa a dirty glare. 

“Please sit,” Daenerys said motioning her hand to the now empty seat. 

“Thank you, your grace,” Sansa said as she took her seat. They sat in silence for a little bit as Sansa struggled to say what she was trying to say. “I’m sorry for how I have been acting towards you,” she said. Daenerys was taken aback by this, she wasn’t expecting this ever. “I have been unfair towards you ever since you arrived at Winterfell and I wanted to make amends,” she said sincerely. Daenerys quirked a small but kind smile. 

“Well thank you Lady Stark, I would like that very much.” she said. 

“Sansa please,” Sansa said. 

“Alright then, Sansa. Why the sudden change of heart?” she asked. 

“I’ve just been thinking about how we’re not all that different,” Daenerys was surprised. She hadn’t heard too much about her and but from what she had heard it wasn’t hard to believe. 

“How so?” she asked. 

“We both know what it’s like to go through hardships but turn those hardships into strength and we show no mercy to those who wrong us,” Sansa said. Daenerys looked down seeing as she clearly knew about what happened with Varys and hoped that this wasn’t what she came here to discuss. But something struck her. She shows no mercy to those who wrong her? Daenerys questioned in her head. 

“Who have you shown no mercy to?” she asked. 

“Ramsay Bolton, fed him to his hounds.” Daenerys smiled believing the two of them might finally be gaining ground and starting to understand each other. “You stood by us in the Great War knowing what it would cost you so we will stand behind you in your war,” Sansa said. Daenerys smiled and nodded in thanks. 

“I look forward to the Starks and Targaryens being allies once again,” she said. They sat for a few more hours, sharing happier stories. Sansa told her about her childhood and Daenerys told her about her rule in Meereen. After some time Daenerys believed it would be time to go to sleep with tomorrow being an important day. She bid Sansa goodnight and took off to her chambers.

On her way back to her chambers she encounters Lady Brienne, Sansa’s close protector. She seems to be frantically searching the halls and when she sees the queen she makes a beeline straight for her. “Where is Ser Jaime?” she asked. While Daenerys didn’t know exactly where she knew he left. 

“He left somewhere in the night, I’m not aware of his whereabouts.” Daenerys responded. Brienne stepped back as she seemed to realize where he had gone. 

“Your grace, he’s gone back to King’s Landing we need to hold off on the attack until we know about his whereabouts.” Daenerys narrowed her eyes at the lady knight. 

“If he’s gone back to King’s Landing then he’s a traitor and will die as one,” Daenerys said coldly. 

“I beg you your grace,” Brienne said. 

“There is no peace in war,” Daenerys sped past her to get to her room and finally got to get some sleep. She reached over but found emptiness. This was the second night in a row she would be spending alone and she dearly missed him being beside her. Why does this always have to happen to me.

ARYA

Sandor had been recovering ever since they arrived at Dragonstone and Arya hadn’t had the time to visit him but now she finally decided to see how he was. She knocked on the door and when she opened it she found he was already packed and ready to go with a hood over his head. “Where are you going?” she asked. Her calm demeanor dropped slightly but she quickly picked it back up. 

“If I stay here then I’ll be fighting on the battlefield meaning getting into the city will be harder. I’m not interested in that Dragon Queen’s war, there’s one fight I’m interested in and it’s not against Cersei.” Arya quickly caught on and desperately tried to stop him. 

“Your chances of surviving that fight are very low,” Arya said frantically. 

“Probably, but that doesn’t matter.” he sighed as he rose and headed towards the door but Arya stopped him. 

“Why not?” she asked. 

“Nobody needs me, it won’t matter if I’m dead or alive,” he said. 

“I need you,” Arya said suddenly. Sandor looked down and nodded his head side to side. 

“No you don’t,” he got down on his knees to match her height and put his hand on her shoulder. “This is where our little journey ends,” he said. Arya pulled him close and embraced him. It took Sandor a second before he eventually hugged her too. 

“Thank you Sandor, for everything.” Sandor pulled away and gave a simple nod before getting up and leaving. Arya had already lost too much when Gendry was killed, she wasn’t ready to lose Sandor too.

JON

Jon stood at the at the front of the gates with his army behind him. Davos and Tyrion stood on both sides of him and surveyed the battlefield. Tyrion seemed to be avoiding his gaze all day and eventually Jon needed to figure out what was going on. “Is there a problem Lord Tyrion?” Tyrion once again neglected to look at him and nodded his head from right to left in an unreasuring way. But Jon was able to discern where his problems lay. “You have issue with how I handled Lord Varys.”

Tyrion hesitated for a moment but spoke. “I must say I wasn’t pleased with how it was handled.”

“Oh and how would you have prefered I handle it?”

“Perhaps beheading?”

Jon sighed and closed his eyes. He didn’t know what came over him that night. He didn’t care about his morals at when Varys stood before him. He didn’t care about the northern traditions. He just wanted Varys dead and with his death came fire and blood. He wasn’t Jon Snow that night and he wasn't Jon Stark. He was Aegon Targaryen. Sixth of his name, protector of the realm. He was the dragon, not the wolf. But he still needed to remember who he was. It doesn’t matter what his name is, he will always be Jon Snow.

“Perhaps I could have handled it better,” Jon said. “But it’s over now.”

Tyrion tightened his lips but gave a smart nod.

“Where’s Brienne?” Arya asked after coming to Jon’s side.

“With Sansa, she serves her not Daenerys.”

“She would be more useful here with us.”

Daario finished with his men and came to join them at the front. “Why the hell does she want to conquer this shit city so badly?”

“This is where all the power resides, this is where she can help the people.” Jon responded.

“Daenerys wasn’t meant to sit on a throne, she’s a conqueror, not a ruler.”

“I think it’s the conqueror’s decision on whether she rules or not.” Jon said. Ghost decided to join Jon at the front and Daario nearly tripped over his feet at the sight of him.

“What the hell is that?” he said jumping back.

“What this little thing?” Jon laughed stroking Ghost’s back. “Don’t worry yourself he doesn’t bite, unless he has reason to.” As he said this Ghost started slowly approaching Daario slowly as Daario slowly backed away. Jon was having the time of his life but needed to focus on the task at hand. “Alright Ghost that’s enough come here,” he whistled and Ghost turned away from Daario and returned to Jon’s side.

Once Daario had calmed down he returned but still kept his distance from Ghost. “First the dragons and now a wolf, soon enough the dwarf’s gonna have a lion following him around.”

“I have a name you know,” Tyrion said.

“Oh that’s right what was it? Jorah? Grey Worm? You told me one time.” Daario jested but Tyrion just ignored him as two riders approached. Jon could tell one of them was most likely the leader of the Golden Company. HIs armour was far richer and his sword as well. The other he recognized as the sellsword Tyrion kept with him for most of his days in King’s Landing.

“Ser Bronn of the Blackwater, wish I could say it was nice to see you again.” Tyrion said.

“I’m sure you do,” the knight responded.

The attention turned to the man in the golden armour who was waiting patiently. “So it’s true. A white direwolf. It’s truly something to see it in person, I can only imagine what I would feel it I saw the dragons.”

“You’ll see them soon enough,” Daario responded. The tone in which he responded made Jon feel there was some history between the two mercenaries.

“Yes I’m sure the queen will want to display the corpses for all to see,” he said and Daario was ready to draw his blade before Jon put his hand before him to stop him.

“You know this battle is unwinnable,” Jon said. “When you die here today you won’t be able to collect gold ever again. But if you abandon this battle then you can live to earn more gold.”

While Strickland seemed to be amused by this attempt Bronn seemed to take the hint. “Well can’t argue with that. See you folk around.”

Strickland’s face turned red and as he turned to Bronn who was already turning his horse to leave. “You would break contract?” he asked annoyed. “Where are you even going?”

“Somewhere with girls,” Bronn said before riding off. While it wasn’t much at least they were down one talented swordsman.

Strickland huffed out a breath before turning his attention back to Jon. “I wish you good fortune in the wars to come,” he said as he began turning away to ride. “And now it begins.”

“No, now it ends.”

JAIME

The people of King’s Landing hadn’t changed whatsoever. All of them far more concerned about their own wellbeing. Trampling over each other and pushing children to the side just to get a few steps ahead of the person behind them. Mothers were grabbing their children as all the citizens were being escorted into the Red Keep. She’s using them as human shields. He thought. He knew Daenerys would refuse to harm civilians and if she did the people would hate her for it. Which made his need to get into the Red Keep all the more urgent. Jaime pushed past people as well as he struggled to get to the gates. He somehow just barely made it past the gates before they closed but there were still many people still situated outside of the gates. Jaime knew exactly where he needed to go to get inside the castle. He knew all the secret passages, even the ones they didn’t tell the Kingsguard about. He pressed on a brick which opened up a doorway into a hall that would lead him into the kitchens. From there he knew the way to the throne room but the journey there wouldn’t be a simple one with the Red Keep being heavily guarded. But to Jaime’s surprise the keep wasn’t heavily guarded, Cersei decided to have all her soldiers outside of the keep as if she had no plan if they were to breach the gates. Or she had a plan and didn’t need soldiers for it. I need to get to Cersei now. Jaime sprinted to the throne room and opened the doors. She was sitting there looking as bitter as ever and that expression didn’t change at the sight of Jaime. The Mountain drew his sword to attack but Cersei brought him to a halt. 

She rose slowly from the throne and slowly descended down the steps.”So, the traitor returns.”

Jaime tried to calm himself. He needs to pick his next words carefully. His sister is unstable and might not hesitate to have him killed if he says anything wrong. “Cersei this battle is unwinnable and you know it. If you surrender the city I promise they will show mercy.”

“And what are your promises worth Kingslayer.”

Jaime as taken aback by this. She had never referred to him like that and always reassured him that what he did was necessary. But now it’s as if she’s forgotten.

“I keep my promises to you,” Jaime said cautiously. 

“Oh yes just like your promise that nothing matters but us,” she said bitterly. “And then what did you do? Ran off to fight for this foreign whore!”

“I fought for the living! For everyone including you!” He stopped and placed a hand on her belly. “For our child!”

Cersei’s face softened briefly at the mention of the baby growing inside of her but quickly returned to its bitterness. “If that were true, then you would have killed the Targaryen girl before she could’ve come for me.” The hope that Cersei was still in there was swept away and Jaime watched as she walked back to her throne and sat down. “Have fun watching all your new friends burn.”

JON

The horse Jon would be riding into the battle was black and not the prettiest. But it was strong and fierce. Fitting he supposed. Arya chose to stay on foot for better mobility. He turned back to Davos. “I trust you’ll be able to take care of things from here.”

He nodded and pulled Jon in for a hug. “Aye I will, do us a favour and stick to the plan.”

Jon smoked and nodded, turning his attention back to the battlefield. He eyed the scorpions lining the walls and hoped Daenerys would be able to handle it. He knows Drogon is agile but he’s mainly only dodged one ice spear at a time so far. Dodging tons of giant bolts headed towards him scared Jon and he hoped he’d be able to handle it.

Ghost joined him at his side. The Dothraki and Second Sons were at the front to break the Golden Company’s line and then the Unsullied, North, and Vale forces would be able to easily pick them off. Jon drew his sword and Daario drew his. When Jon ignited his sword into flames Daario’s eyes grew wide.

“What the hell are you?”

Jon turned his head to the battlefield. “Jon Snow.” Jon charged and the Dothraki followed him from behind. Then them and the company made contact.

It was terrible. The Golden Company picked off the Dothraki like it was sport for them. For every one mercenary that fell, five Dothraki fell first. Jon’s horse was quickly poked full of arrows and he fell to the ground, luckily with little injury. The skill of the Golden Company was something Jon had never seen before. The way they used their spears were ways Jon had never even considered. While he was still able to take down five it certainly did not come with ease.

Through all the chaos he was able to spot Arya who almost seemed to be having fun. Clearly they would be no problem for her but her alone wasn’t enough. Then came Strickland. Arya originally seemed to think nothing of it but as her one on one fight with Strickland raged on the more evident of how strong he really was started to show. His sword was quick and his feet quicker. Arya for once seemed to be struggling. Not just struggling but actually losing.

She was able to disappear after the fight got too difficult for her. She cut Strickland up well and he seemed to be weaker. That’s when he saw Jon cutting down his men now like it was a dance. Jon spotted him out of the corner of his eye as he charged towards him. Due to Strickland’s weakened state and Jon not sustaining any injuries just yet the fight was close to even. When Jon advanced, Strickland backed and when Strickland advanced Jon backed. The two would occasionally be pulled away to fight the other soldiers but they somehow always resumed the fight.

Jon parried one of Strickland’s stabs attempts knocking his sword to the ground and leaving him vulnerable. But when Jon went to stab him Strickland pulled one of his mercenaries in front of him to take the hit. Jon became blinded when the mercenary coughed blood into Jon’s face and he quickly fell to the ground.

Jon was able to get the blood out of his eyes in time to see Strickland pinning him to the ground and ready to stab him. He raised his sword as Jon struggled to escape his grip. When he brought it down Jon closed his eyes before it pierced his flesh. But when it didn’t he slowly opened one eye to see the blade inches from his face. He moved his head and saw the blade of a knife sticking through the face of Strickland.

His body fell to the floor and someone grabbed Jon’s hand to lift him back to his feet. Once he returned to his senses he realized this person was talking to him. He turned his head and saw Daario.

“Are you in there Stark?” He said waving his hand in front of his face.

Jon could only muster a grunt and nod.

Daario moves over to Strickland’s dead body and picked up Jon’s sword and removed his dagger from his face. He handed his sword back to Jon. “You’re not done yet.”

OVER BLACKWATER BAY

The ironborn all loaf their bolts in preparations for the arrival of Daenerys and Drogon. 1,000 ships all loaded and ready. Euron planned to be remembered as the man who killed a dragon and Daenerys Targaryen. He heard the roar he heard that day in the dragonpit. He looked around eagerly but didn’t see a dragon. He heard it again but still didn’t see it. Then he looked up to the sky and he saw it. Faintly but he saw it. The silhouette of a great beast diving towards then from the sun. He ran to his scorpion and prepared to fire.

When he did the dragon dodged and rained fire down on his ships. He struggled to turn the scorpion as Drogon moved to fast to even track his movements. He dove beneath the water and destroyed the ships from beneath. He rose high into the sky and out of reach before the scorpions could hit him then would dive back down and rain fire. Soon the entire bay was engulfed in his burning ships. There were only two left, Silence and one other. Finally he spotted the dragon but it was out of reach. 

He looked at the only other ship left and saw it was coming straight towards him. “The fuck are you doing!” He screamed at the ship but then he saw her at the helm. The ships collided sending Euron and his men off balance. Yara and her men jumped on and began wiping out his men. 

While all the fighting erupted around the Yara didn’t join in and kept her focus on Euron. “Missed you uncle,” she said as she swung her sword towards him and Euron quickly dodged her attack. He drew a knife and partied her attacks. Her strikes grew angrier. When she backed him up to a nearby rail he dodged her attack and her strike completely shattered the railing. When he ducked another attack her sword plunged halfway through a mast but she quickly tore it out and continued fighting.

Euron grew too tired and got sloppier. Yara struck his leg at the knee, cutting it cleanly in half. He fell to the ground as Yara stood over him, her crew now had complete control of the ship. “I’m so proud of you,” Euron laughed. Yara screamed and plunged her sword into Euron’s throat as he gargled up blood and quickly passed on.

THE RED KEEP

One of the Queensguard came running through the door, blood pouring out and armour covered in holes and slices. “Your grace!” He screamed. “The Hound! He’s…” he collapsed to the ground and bled out on the floor.

Before Cersei could muster a word Gregor Clegane already began walking towards the door.

“Ser Gregor stay by my side!” She screamed.

But he turned around and gave a look that even caused Cersei to quiver in her seat. He turned around and continued towards the door.

Sandor finished the last of the Queensguard. He was surrounded by the bodies of them but the one body he wanted to see on the ground wasn’t. Instead it was standing right before him. The hallway they were in was dimly lit, the only lighting being the few torches strewn along the wall. But he knew it was him.

“You’ve gotten uglier,” Sandor said. But he received no response. Just a deep growl that seemed to be his only form of communication. “Is that even you still in there?”

Once again he responded with a growl. “Eh, doesn’t really matter,” Sandor responded. “As long as you know who killed you.”

Sandor raised his sword and his brother drew his. Sandor charged towards him screaming and the collision of his their swords wrang throughout the halls. Sandor swung his sword wildly and his brother and he took the brunt of Sandor’s abuse. One of these blows knocked the Mountain’s helmet clean off.

His face was terribly decayed with bones from his skull protruding out of his cheeks. His skin was completely white and his eyes were sunken into his skull. “Yeah, there you are.” Sandor said.

Gregor came onto the offense now, attempting to strike and Sandor just dodging the attacks in time. Bricks on the walls were crumbling after the Mountain struck them.

One of these attacks got his sword lodged into the wall and Sandor took the opportunity to strike. He stabbed Gregor in the gut but he seemed to be unaffected. Sandor pushed his sword further into his stomach and it still seemed to not at all harm him. Gregor finally seemed to grow tired of him and pushed him back with such force it felt like Sandor had just been shot with an arrow. He removed his sword from the wall and slowly proceeded towards Sandor as he struggled to rise back to his feet.

Once Gregor reached him he picked his brother back up himself and launched him towards a nearby wall, causing it to dent and even show holes into the adjacent room. He threw him towards the other wall and an even larger dent. He picked up Sandor and proceeded to beat him mercilessly but taking his time. Making sure he felt the pain before he died.

After Gregor grew tired of his beatings he finally plunged his sword into Sandor’s gut, twisting it, and then shoving it into the wall. Sandor screamed in agony at the pain and frustration at not being able to kill his brother. His sword was at the other end of the hall and he had no hope of removing the sword from his gut. 

So he grabbed a torch off the wall and shoved it into his brother’s face. The Mountain tried to back away but Sandor grabbed him by the armour and held him closer as he burned away his face. Sandor walked closer, allowing the sword to plunge deeper into him as he continued to burn away his brother’s face.

Then the struggling stopped and his brother fell to the ground. For the first time in a long time Sandor felt somewhat at peace. His whole life all he wanted was this and now he couldn’t think of much else to live for, so he didn’t.

THE BATTLEFIELD

Jon’s numbers had depleted severely as the battle raged on while the Golden Company losses were small. The battle seemed hopeless his death was all but certain. Jon was now surrounded by Golden Company soldiers, the only thing keeping them at bay being his flaming sword. He swung at them but they kept backing away and dodging.

Then one fell as something broke through their line. Arya charged through with Ghost and Nymeria behind her and found her brother in the middle. They stood back to back, both of their respective direwolves beside them as well. When they attacked the mercenaries quickly fell. Ghost and Nymeria picked them off with their teeth while Jon and Arya fought together as if they’d done this so many times before. They switched side flawlessly, used each other’s separate abilities to their advantage. You would think that they could take down an army. But once they took down the ones surrounding them others just replaced them and everything seemed pointless.

Then came the fire. But when he looked up he didn’t see Daenerys riding on Drogon because it wasn’t Drogon who had been burning down the mercenaries. It was the green scaled dragon who was supposed to be waiting at Dragonstone. He was still far too injured to be here and that much was evident. He landed on the ground right next to Jon, roaring at the mercenaries who tried throwing their spears, to no avail. 

It was a different bolt that hit the dragon. A giant bolt pierced Rhaegal in the shoulder, grounding him. Rhaegal did his best to continue to defend Jon and burned out the scorpion that struck him but soon enough another one was shot, then another and another until Rhaegal was no longer mobile and slumped onto the ground in a pile of his own blood and the blood of people who had just been crushed under his weight. Jon stood at his face and placed a hand to it in a way saying thank you. Rhaegal seemed to recognize this and slowly closed his eyes.

Anger coursed through Jon’s body and he was ready to slaughter anyone who came near when he didn’t have to. The bolts were burned out as the last dragon left burned them along the walls and killed all the Lannister soldiers operating them. Daenerys sat atop Drogon and landed on the battlefield. “This battle is over!” She screamed with pure anger in her eyes. “Lay down your spears or...” Drogon let out a roar, and burned a few Golden Company foot soldiers to send a message. While there was hesitance the Golden Company eventually began dropping their spears and surrendered. Jon and his forces proceeded to storm the city and take out the Lannister armies, leaving the civilians.

JAIME

Jaime sighed as the gates fell and the armies began making their way towards the Red Keep. He turned back to Cersei who for some reason seemed to be unphased. He cautiously made his way towards her, afraid she might snap and find some unknown strength to choke him to death. “Cersei,” he whispered. She slowly turned her head towards him. “The gates have fallen, it’s over.” He started. “Surrender peacefully and I will secure your life.”

But Cersei just scoffed at him. “I did always call you the stupidest Lannister.”

She’s delusional. Jaime thought. “You have no more armies standing between you! It’s over!”

Even still she didn’t change her demeanor. “I’m sure you of all people are familiar with wildfire.”

Jaime froze in his place at the mention of that day. The day that changed everything for him after the city was almost burned down by the mad king.

“Of course you are being the kingslayer,” she said. “Before the Targaryen girl came to attack Qyburn went around the city and found the hidden caches from King Aerys’ wildfire plot and made the choice to include a few of his own.”

Jaime froze realizing what she was planning to do. “Cersei I’m begging you! Surrender peacefully you don’t need to do this!”

But she completely ignored Jaime, instead turning to Qyburn. “You know what to do. Burn them all.” She then turned back to Jaime. His eyes wide and breathing heavy and ragged. “After this is over you will be executing Tyrion yourself.”

It was horrible what came to Jaime’s mind, what he needed to do. But he knew he needed to do it. As Qyburn walked in his direction towards the great doors Jaime drew his sword and stabbed him through the gut. He turned his head to see Cersei turning to flee. Jaime ran for her and shoved his sword through her back. Then through her heart to end her life quickly. As he held her in his arms as she died he caressed her belly in shame. “I’m sorry.” He kept muttering as the tears poured out of his eyes and onto her. She failed to muster any more words as she slowly faded away and her body grew limp.

JON

They breached through the Red Keep and found it nearly empty with only a few deceased Queensguard. As they advanced cautiously through the halls they found Sandor. Sticking to the wall with his brother nearly missing his entire head. Arya ran to him trying to wake him, find any sign that he was still alive but he was gone. Jon went to his sister and held her close. “Do you want some time alone?” Arya pulled away and nodded with tears pouring out of her eyes. Jon nodded and motioned his hand for his men to follow him. Once they got to the great hall it wasn’t what he was expecting to see.

He expected to see the queen but not like that. He expected to see the throne but it wasn’t at all what he had pictured. He saw the Hand of the Queen laying on the ground in his own blood and Queen Cersei on her back clutching her stomach in a puddle of her own blood as well. When he finally turned his focus away from them he saw Jaime Lannister seated on the throne with tears pouring endlessly out of his eyes.

Jon went over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder to gain his attention. Jaime slowly raised his head and looked at Jon in the eyes. Jon nodded. “You did the right thing.”


	6. Episode 6: Lines of Succession

ARYA

Arya stands beside her sister and her brother at the top of the stairs of the Red Keep. Tyrion, Davos, and Daario are on the other side of the stairs. The remnants of Cersei’s armies which is surprisingly larger than expected stands in an open area, all kept in line by the Unsullied. A roar erupts in the sky and Daenerys rides on Drogon, landing on the stairs. She walks forward while Drogon roars, taking off into the sky and perching on a nearby wall. Once she arrives Cersei’s forces yell out every vulgar word there is but quickly quiet down when Drogon roars and spews fire into the sky.

“Lannisters! Golden Company!” Daenerys begins. “You are not gathered here to be executed! You are gathered here to be given a choice!” The power that Daenerys exuded was incredible and this was the first time Arya got to really see her commanding people. If being a lady could be like this then maybe it wouldn't be so bad. “I am not demanding you fight for me! I am not demanding you fight for glory or the people! I’m demanding that you fight for yourselves! A threat marches south from the North and it will require every man to beat them back! I demand that you fight beside us!” she screamed. “Or…” she trailed off before turning to Drogon. The dragon roared and sent flames into the sky. 

While hesitant at first the men quickly kneeled, spare a few with too much pride. Those men that didn’t kneel were brought forth to the queen, placed in shackles. Drogon left from his perch and landed behind Daenerys. “Perhaps you could not hear me,” she said quietly but somehow that was far more intimidating. “Bend the knee or burn.” she said as Drogon roared from behind her seemingly demanding them as well. While a few kneeled some still refused. “Very well then, bring them forth.” she commanded her Unsullied as they grabbed the few men and forced them onto their knees in front of the queen. “I, Daenerys of the House Targaryen. First of my name, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and the Protector of the Realm, sentence you to die. Dracarys,” she said as Drogon let his flames loose and the men disintegrated into ash.

She turned back walking up the stairs to her hand. “Have the preparations been made?” she asked. Tyrion gave a nod and turned to Jon. “We’re building pyres to burn the bodies of the soldiers and any dead bodies left in King’s Landing, later tonight we’re holding a feast.” Jon tightened his lips and nodded. Daenerys was surprisingly not as intimate when speaking to him as she had been at Winterfell which confused Arya but she wouldn’t question it now. 

They made their way outside of the city walls as dead bodies were placed on to pyres. Arya advanced a few steps to Sandor’s body. She allowed tears to slip seeing him lying there lifeless, slight shame creeping its way into her soul at the thought that there was a time that she wanted to be the one to put him there. A hand came up from behind her, being placed on her shoulder. She turned and saw Jon looking down at her with sympathy. She turned and embraced him but kept her eyes on Sandor as if expecting him to move and call her a cunt. His favourite word. But he didn’t move and it was for the best. If he did move he would most likely wake with blue eyes. And she couldn’t bare to see him like that. Arya nodded as they backed away. Jon grabbed a torch along with many others and they advanced forward to light the pyres.

The final body that was left was the body of the green scaled dragon, Rhaegal. Jon advanced towards Daenerys who hadn’t moved from his body. Both of them seemed to have tears in their eyes as Jon had seemed to have formed some sort of connection to the great beast. Drogon let out a cry of mourning for his lost brother and then reluctantly set him aflame. The two stood there staring at the burning body of the dragon, hoping that all this death wasn’t what awaited them.

After the funeral was over Daenerys and company made their way back to the Red Keep to address the common folk. She didn’t stand over them but more amongst them. There were murmurs amongst the crowd about her but quickly all ceased once she spoke. “People of King’s Landing,” she spoke in a much less intimidating tone this time. “You have been told by Cersei that I am here to burn down your homes and murder all your loved ones.” Murmurs returned to the crowd after this statement but ceased once again when she spoke. “But as you can see your homes still stand and your families remain at your side. I understand the pain and suffering you all have endured at the hands of my father.” She paused, closing her eyes and breathing before she continued. “But I assure you that I am not my father and I will not become him, the gods have flipped their coin and it has landed. I intend to be the ruler you all have desperately needed for your lives. I will put the people first, I will ensure you all live your best possible lives.” People at first looked unsure, they all looked and talked amongst themselves. But then one lowered themselves to their hands and knees. Another followed after that, then another. More and more lowered themselves down and eventually the whole lot of them bowed down before her. She didn’t know if it was out of fear for what she might do if they didn’t or if it was like the freed slaves of Meereen but even so she feels it. Something she hadn't felt for some time now. She felt loved.

MISSANDEI

The black sky had settled upon King’s Landing and at night the city held some form of actual beauty to it. The lights of the streets reminded her of looking over Meereen in the dead of night over the balcony of her chambers. But tonight music played throughout the streets, people ate with their families and those who didn’t have any ate in the pubs.

Missandei turned around to find a certain that had housed a certain unsullied soldier. When she opened the door, he was sitting on the bed missing his shirt. Grey Worm had a few small cuts on his body but nothing too concerning. He lifted his head to meet Missandei’s eyes and his face lit up. They ran to each other and embraced. “Do you need help walking to the feast?” she asked. Grey Worm shook his head but she helped him nonetheless.

They walked in silence and it was obvious that something was greatly bothering her. “Is something wrong?” Grey Worm asked. They had stopped walking now and Grey Worm was now facing her. Missandei pursed her lips, struggling to say what she wanted to say knowing what his answer would be. “Could you perhaps not fight the next fight,” she didn’t meet his eyes, afraid because she knew his answer. 

“I will do whatever my queen commands,” he responded. 

She now took his face in her hands. “I know and I love that about you,” she said. “But maybe just this once instead of doing your duty to your queen, do your duty to me. Live.” 

Grey Worm looked down in contemplation before he returned his gaze to her eyes. “Every man must fight, but I will return Missandei.” She desperately wanted to change Grey Worm’s mind, convince him set aside his duty. But she couldn’t be selfish, and once Grey Worm has made his decision, nothing changes that.

SANSA

Everyone was rather quiet that night. People in the dining hall didn’t engage in too much conversation and for the most part just ate in silence. Even Arya who by now would be flinging various types of food at people by now was just eating quietly. Tyrion’s head rested in one hand while the other plucked at his food in boredom. Brienne just stared at her food as if it had said something condescending. The seat next to Tyrion was empty which was originally being reserved for Ser Jaime, however he had not been seen once throughout the day. She looked across at her brother at the head table who was tapping his finger. Every now and then he would shoot a quick look at Daenerys who sat beside him. She seemed to have barely touched her food at this point. At some point the silence became too much and Jon rose from his seat. “Everyone,” he started. All the eyes in the hall turned and were now focused on him. “I understand that the general feeling amongst us now is despair. There is a looming threat of death upon us and we’re in the middle of fighting it back.” Jon inhaled a deep breath before he continued to speak. “But that is exactly why we shouldn’t be so depressed right now. We’re alive right now. If these are to be our last few days, shouldn’t we enjoy them?” 

It was silent for a few more seconds but soon after the hall started erupting into much more chatter than before. People were laughing and drinking and enjoying themselves. All except the person she would expect to be trying to enjoy himself. The very person who gave the speech on how they should be enjoying themselves appears to be sulking. She expected him to be engaged in deep conversation with Daenerys. Smiling and laughing. But they both seemed like this was the last place they wanted to be. Eventually Daenerys rises from her chair and turns around to retreat down the nearest hall. Jon seems to hesitate for a moment before Sansa slaps him hard on the arm. “Ow what in seven hells was that for?” he asked rubbing his arm. 

“What the hell are you still doing here?” she asked motioning towards where Daenerys ran off to. “She’s clearly not happy, isn’t it sort of your duty to make sure she’s not not happy?” Jon pressed his lips together and sighed before he slowly rose from his chair and walked in the direction Daenerys went. Sansa didn’t know what it was between those to but she hoped they figured it out soon. Sansa wanted her brother to enjoy his last few days.

DAENERYS

Jon’s speech to everyone hurt. She knew he needed time to accept who he was but they didn’t have time. The Night King was to arrive at their gates at any unknown time to them. And yet she continued to fall asleep and wake up in an empty bed. If he needs space from her then maybe she could use some space from him. Daenerys whipped through the halls of the Red Keep with zero knowledge on where she was going until she arrived. She entered a large room, pillars stretching up to the ceiling high above, braziers surrounding each pillar. She looked around the room and all its grandeur but her eyes settled on what was straight ahead. The throne of swords, forged by the flames of Balerion the Dread. It was an ugly thing, not at all what she’d imagined. But it had some sort of appeal to it. 

She began reaching for the arm rest when she heard a loud creak of the doors behind her opening as they echoed throughout the hall. She turned and saw Jon entering from the hall. The hall was barely lit only by the moonlight but she could see the genuine smile on his face and she couldn’t help but smile back. 

She took one last look at the throne before pulling her hand away and walking down the stairs. “When I was a little girl, my brother told me it was made from a thousand swords of Aegon’s fallen enemies.” She had reached the bottom of the stairs and she could see his face better in the pale moonlight. The sides of his eyes crinkled and his smile widened at hearing the joy in her voice and her smile widened as well. “What do a thousand swords look like in the mind of a little girl who can’t count to twenty? I imagined a mountain of swords too high to climb, so many fallen enemies you could only see the souls of Aegon’s feet.” 

Jon chuckled at her mention of her as a little girl. She supposed it was sort of endearing for others to imagine this supposed great warrior woman who rode into battle on dragon back as a little girl picturing such things. Jon turned his attention to the throne. While his smile faded slightly it didn’t wipe right off his face. “Doesn’t quite live up to your expectations, does it.” He said. 

Daenerys giggled at this. No it didn’t at all, but her expectations were unrealistic and those of a simple minded child. “No it doesn’t, but I prefer it down here rather than towering above. How am I to help my people if I’m so high above them I can’t even hear their pleas?” 

They sat there in content silence and for a moment but only for a moment she was able to forget the issue that lay between them. She wanted to give him time, she would wait for her entire life if it meant things would return to the way it was between them. But they didn’t have her entire life to wait. It might not end well, but he needed to answer. “Have you had enough time to think about us?” She asked him. 

His smile fully faded and his eyes dropped to the floor as he shuffled his feet nervously. “You know this isn’t easy for me,” he mumbled nervously still not meeting her eyes. 

“Do you think it’s easy for me?” she asked. 

“I never said that,” he responded. He continued to keep his eyes trained at his feet. “It’s not just us, it’s also about me.” Daenerys’ gaze softened and her eyebrows raised slightly. “All my life I believed I was the bastard son of the honourable Ned Stark. Even though I was a bastard I still held some semblance of pride in that. Knowing that I was the son of one of the best men who walked amongst us.” Daenerys’ previous frustration started to fade at his admission of his thoughts. “I don’t know who I am anymore, I thought I did and I say I do but I don’t. I’m just confused I don’t who I’m supposed to be.” His voice was breaking and Daenerys quickly took his face in her hands and lifted his eyes to look into hers. 

“I know who you are. You’re Jon. Not Aegon Targaryen or Jon Stark or even Jon Snow. You don’t have to choose any of them. You don’t have to choose who your father is because you know who he was. Rhaegar might be your blood but Ned Stark was your real father. You’re a dragon and a wolf and the stupid, stubborn northern man that I love!” Her words were a surprise to both of them but they seemed to be getting through to Jon, at least on the part of his identity but she didn’t know how he felt about them just yet. 

“Dany I-” They were interrupted when Sam came bursting through the doors out of breath. It seemed he’d been running everywhere in search of them. “Jon it’s Bran. He’s awake.”

TYRION

The feast was uneventful for him. Podrick had never had to do so much fighting in such little time and had been sleeping since the moment he spotted a bed. Brienne didn’t really make for fun conversation unless Jaime was present, and Jon and Daenerys had disappeared from the feast. Most likely finding the nearest room with a lock. He thought to himself. Eventually the dull conversation grew tiresome for him so he decided he would go and find someone he enjoyed conversing with.

As Tyrion walked further and further into the keep the noise of laughter and conversation faded until he couldn’t hear it at all. Cersei had certainly redecorated the halls immensely with Lannister lions etched into the walls that would take some time to remove. He finally found a room lit by a few candles and the moonlight shining through a lone but large window. If you looked out the room you would be able to spot the Great Sept of Baelor, or what’s left of it anyways. He looked around the room and noticed the feminine but drab decor and figured it was probably somewhere Cersei spent a fair amount of time. 

He looked back to the window and saw a figure whom he hadn’t noticed when he entered. “So this is where you’re hiding,” Tyrion said pulling a chair to sit beside Jaime.

“Look up there,” Jaime said pointing with his good hand. Tyrion brought his chair and looked to where Jaime was pointing. He saw the moon but right next to it was a star that shone brighter than all the others. “Cersei used to say that was mother watching over us. That only mother would shine so bright.” Tyrion bowed his head with a small sad smile. Would she have still hated me had my mother lived? “I didn’t notice at first but now that I look there’s six more stars.” Tyrion looked up and saw six others that surrounded the bright star. They didn’t shine much brighter than the other stars in the sky however. “Do you think that’s them? Father, Tommen, Myrcella, Cersei, my unborn child. Even Joffrey?” 

Probably not. It’s probably just something Cersei used to say. But that’s not really something he should say in his brother’s emotional state. He looked at his brother who seemed to know it wasn’t true but still waited for an answer. “I suppose it could be,” Tyrion responded. Jaime bowed his head as if he knew it wasn’t but just wanted to feel better. “Would you like to continue drinking with the people you saved?” Tyrion asked. Jaime looked at him then slowly shook his head no. “Well then, I guess you’ll have to settle for drinking with one.”

JON

Jon bolts through the halls with Daenerys close behind him. By now Sam is nowhere to be seen behind them being unable to keep up. Once they arrive at the room that they decided to keep Bran in they see him in his wheelchair. His face held the same expression as if he hadn’t been asleep for weeks. Jon was across the room in seconds to embrace his brother. “Bran, are you alright? What happened?” Jon asked. Sam had finally caught up and was now standing in the doorway trying to catch his breath. “Why didn’t the Night King kill you?” Jon asked again.

Bran ignored his question and turned to Samwell. “Leave us.” Both Sam and Daenerys began making their way to the door. “Not you.” Sam and Daenerys turned around confused. Sam turned around slowly and left and Daenerys pulled up a chair to seat herself in front of Bran.

“So why didn’t he kill you?” Jon asked again.

Bran once again ignored his question. “Daenerys, you carry a child within you.”

Time came to a sudden and screeching halt. Daenerys has a- what? Daenerys was the first to speak. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, I can’t have children.” Even though she had been so sure every time the subject was broached now she seemed to be pondering what Bran had said.

“Bran, that is very big news. I need you to be certain,” Jon said hesitantly. Please let it be true, she deserves this. 

Bran nodded his head once again. “I’ve seen it, I am the Three-Eyed Raven. Of course I would know.” 

Jon slowly turned his head to Daenerys who seemed to be staring into blank space, hands upon her belly. Jon took one of her hands in his and that seemed to take Daenerys from her trance. She turned her head to him, slowly, then looked at him, unsure. Jon gave her a reassuring smile and that seemed to do what it needed. She smiled with tears pouring out of her eyes and leapt into his embrace. “Thank you, thank you so much.” Jon hugged her closer. 

“Now to answer your question, the Night King didn’t kill me because wanted me to tell you this.” 

Jon pulled away from Daenerys slowly and stood to go closer to Bran. Worry plastered across his face. “Why?”

“Because he wants your son,” the way Bran said it was as if it meant absolutely nothing. 

The Night King wants his- his son? “Why?!” He demands. He’ll burn the whole world down before he let that happen. 

“Like all things the Night King’s time in this world must come to an end. And like all kings he needs an heir.” Daenerys looks like she’s ready to break into a million pieces and rage takes over Jon. 

He flips his chair and screams in anger as he pounds the wall so hard it cracks, the blood from his knuckles now drip onto the floor. “Why my son!? Why not any other child, why mine!?” He demands. It’s not really fair to direct this anger to Bran as he’s just the messenger but hearing him utter the words from his mouth so carelessly as if it doesn’t matter enrages Jon. 

“Because he has the blood of Valyria and the First Men, he’s the child of ice and fire. The only child that would be able to hold all the power that the Night King possesses.” 

It was too much for Daenerys at that point. She ran from the room and slammed the door behind her. “Daenerys!” Jon yelled after her but she was already all the way down the hall. He turned back to Bran and charged his way towards him. “There has to be a way to kill him! Tell me how!”

Bran nods. “The only way to kill him is by carving out the dragonglass in his chest using Valyrian steel.”\

“Good, then I’ll do that. I’ll carve the dragonglass out of his chest. Then shove it through his FUCKING FACE!” Jon said striding out the door and slamming it behind him. He needed to go somewhere. He needed to be alone.

JON

Jon sat on a balcony overlooking the city. The celebrations were beginning to die down and now the people who were originally screaming in hollering were dancing with each other in the streets to kind music. It would have been pleasant had he not heard what he had. The Night King wants his son. Life seems to be having a hell of a time giving him the most wonderful of things and then tearing them away in the blink of an eye. Jon was on his third cup now and not nearly drunk enough. 

Someone opened the door behind him but he didn’t bother looking back. It wasn’t until the person joined him in the seat beside him that he saw it was Daario. “What are you doing out here Stark?” Jon didn’t answer he just raised his glass to indicate he was drinking. Daario sighed and grabbed his own cup, pouring his own drink. “What’s plaguing your mind Stark?”

Jon downs a full cup before he speaks. “Daenerys is pregnant.” Daario chokes on his drink and goes into a coughing fit before he could speak. “Yours?” He wheezes and Jon gives a nod. “You don’t seem too pleased.”

“Apparently the Night King wants it,” Jon said clenching his jaw as he squeezes his cup so hard it might just shatter in his hands. Maybe it already has and he hasn’t noticed the pain. He feels as if his whole body went limp and he can’t feel anything at all.

Daario looks on at him in confusion before turning his head forward. “Hm,” he said. “That is a difficult one.” Jon roles his jaw and nods, scowling at the open. He hears a roar and looks forward to see Drogon flying above in the distance. He seemed to be making happy noises of sorts, perhaps sensing his mother is pregnant. “Wait but she told me she couldn’t have children.” 

Jon closed his eyes and tried to ignore the implications of that but they kept coming to mind. “Well I guess she was wrong.” There was an awkward silence as they downed a few more cups. “You love her,” it was less a question and more of a statement. Yes, of course he does. Apparently every man who meets her falls in love with her. 

“Is that important?” Daario asked.

“We both command large and important parts of her army, if we have problems amongst ourselves then that puts us at an even bigger disadvantage then we already are. I need to be sure we won’t have any problems.”

Daario took a pause to think about what to say. “If I pine for the same woman my whole life then where’s the joy in my life going to be?” He stated. “No no, my and her days are over, on to the next woman.” 

“Good to hear.”

 

“So has she ridden you yet?” Daario asked with a smirk on his face. 

Jon looked at him wide eyed at his crudeness. He wanted to be mad but couldn’t help but chuckle at how forward he was. “I’m not discussing that with you.”

Daario exhaled a small laugh and drank again. “That’s a yes.”

Jon decided it was time to turn in after Daario decided to teach him some tricks with a dagger and Jon failed miserably at every single one. Jon wandered the halls and came upon the chambers of the queen. He didn’t even know he’d been heading there, hell he didn’t even know where they were to begin with but now he’s here in front of the door. He raised his hands to knock but didn’t bother, figuring she was probably asleep. He entered and sure enough he saw her with her eyes closed, tear tracks coating her face. Her chest was steadily rising and falling and he was glad to see that she didn’t seem to be having a nightmare. He removed his boots and any uncomfortable clothing as he made his way to the bed. It still wasn’t easy, it would never be as easy as it was to love her before. Not with what he knew. But there’s no way he could leave her alone now. He placed a small kiss on her forehead to not wake her and then placed his arm around her as they slowly drifted off to sleep.

DAENERYS

Daenerys woke from her sleep when the sun started to shine through her window, but something felt different. There was more weight on her bed this morning and an arm draped around her. When she looked at the arm she instantly recognized who it belonged to. She smiled to herself and decided to stay there for a bit longer in fear that if she woke him he might leave immediately. 

Unfortunately fate hasn’t been favouring thus far and Missandei comes in that morning. Even though tries her best to remain quiet when she sees Jon in the bed he still ends up waking. Godsdammit. “Um, your grace, my lord. The council wishes to speak with you this afternoon.” Daenerys sighed but thanked her friend before she left. As Daenerys tried to get out of the bed to get dressed Jon clung to her tighter. “I’ll go, you can stay in bed today.” Daenerys sighed contently. He hadn’t spoken so softly to her since before the truth was revealed and it brought back fond memories of the boat to White Harbor. Unfortunately she was Queen and would need to remove herself from the bed at some point. “I must attend the meeting, I am Queen.” She tried to get out of the bed and once again tried to get up but Jon held her closer once more. “You don’t have to go just yet.” Daenerys gave up and leaned back into the bed. This was what she’d been hoping for afterall.

JON

Jon meets with his sisters in the small council chambers before they arrive. He figured it best for Sansa and Arya to know first before everyone else did. “We have some news,” he started. Sansa seemed interested but Arya seemed like she somehow already knew what he was about to say. “Daenerys is pregnant,” Sansa leapt out of her seat and the look on Arya’s face quickly changed to shock, clearly not the news she was expecting. “Jon that’s wonderful news!” Sansa said hugging her brother tightly. “Thanks Sansa,” Jon said with zero enthusiasm in his voice which Sansa easily picked up on. “I would’ve expected you to be more excited.” Before Jon could answer Arya chimed in. “Is it because you’re a Targaryen.” Jon’s face went pale in shock. How did she know. “Who told you?” Arya decided not to answer him directly. “A little spider,” it wasn’t a clear answer but Jon got the message. “What the fuck!” They had both completely forgotten Sansa was still in the room with them. “Your a what?” Jon wiped his palm over his face before he answered. “Bran saw in a vision that I am the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. I was birthed true born and out of love unlike what everyone has been told. My real name is Aegon Targaryen.” It was a lot of information to get out all at once which was evident by the way Sansa stumbled backwards at the information. “And this is why you’re unhappy about Daenerys’ pregnancy,” Arya stated. Jon breathed because this might finally send Sansa to sleep. “Part of it but the real reason is because the Night King wants our child” like Jon suspected Sansa nearly fainted but she somehow managed to catch herself. Arya looked away as a sad expression fell across her face. She immediately ran to Jon and hugged him tightly. “I won’t let him touch your child, I’ll die before I let that happen.” Jon held her there and Sansa came in to join the embrace. “The Night King won’t get anywhere near your child Jon, we’ll make sure of it.” Jon nodded with a smile on his face. The pack survives. “I know it’s hard but you two need to be there for each other right now,” Jon looked down. It was hard and it will be hard but he couldn’t leave her alone right now.

Finally the makeshift council found its way into the small council room. Daario, Davos, Tyrion, Bran, Brienne, and Sansa and Arya who were already here. It seems Daenerys listened to Jon and stayed in bed today. Jon discusses that Daenerys is pregnant and the reactions were similar to his sisters. 

“The Prince of Dorne has recently arrived with the Dornish army,” Tyrion said. “Good, we’ll need them.” Bran said. Everyone at the table turned to him. “The wall of fire is gone and the dead march south.”


	7. Episode 7: Prince of the Seven Kingdoms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King's Landing prepares for the dead, Jon comes to terms with Daenerys' pregnancy.

JAIME

Not only had the gardens not changed but they somehow seemed to have become more beautiful. Which was surprising seeing as Cersei was the one in charge of tending to them. It didn’t seem like she would want to bother with the flowers but they were still growing strong. Perhaps it was for Myrcella, maybe a way she chose to remember her by.

It was a nice place to go and try to clear his mind, maybe find some semblance of peace. He took a seat and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. The smell of the flowers soothed him at least. That feeling was interrupted by the distinct sound of clashing swords. Jaime opened his eyes annoyed and got up to put an end to whatever was happening. One hand on the hilt. He turned a corner to where the noise was coming from and saw Brienne training Pod who seemed to be far too tired to train any longer.

Pod swung his sword uselessly at Brienne, his sword arm seemed to be completely limp and Brienne easily knocked it from his hand and hit Pod to the ground. “I’m too tired Ser,” he wheezed. 

“Do the dead care that your tired?” Brienne said, dropping the sword on his gut as it bounced right back up and into her hand. 

“No,” Pod said wheezing and coughing. 

“Perhaps you should give the lad a rest,” Jaime said as he made his presence known. Brienne looked surprised to see him and Pod was looking at Brienne with desperate eyes. Brienne exhaled in frustration before she let Pod go and he took off running before she could change her mind. 

She turned to Jaime now. “I’m surprised to see you about Ser Jaime,” she said avoiding his eyes. 

“As am I,” he responded. “Would you care to walk with me?” Jaime asked. Brienne obliged, putting the swords off to the side. They walked together through the gardens in silence, each trying to think of something to talk about that wouldn’t be such a dull topic. “How goes the boy’s training?” Jaime asked trying to break the awkward silence. It was a dull topic but at some point he needed to break the silence. 

“He’s an above average swordsman now, could be better however,” she responded. Despite what her words said she sounded proud of Podrick’s advancement.

“So you fought the White Walkers,” Jaime said after another period of silence. 

“I did,” she responded. 

“How were they?” Jaime asked. There was still one left and it being the most powerful one he needed to be sure if he stood a chance at winning if he came face to face with it. 

“Some of the best fighters I’d ever seen. However their weakness was too great,” Brienne said. That answers Jaime’s question, don’t want to come close to him.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry, I’m sure it was difficult and hurtful for you but I will be here if you need speak with someone,” Brienne said. 

While she hadn’t directly informed Jaime on what he was talking about he knew well enough. “I’ll be alright.”

“I heard you’ll be commanding the Westerland forces,” Brienne said attempting another topic instead of a subject he would most likely prefer not to speak of. 

“I am,” Jaime said nodding. “I actually wanted to talk to you about that.” Jaime said taking a light grip on her arm to stop her. “I wouldn’t object to having a second in command, someone with good senses and a strong attitude. Also an experienced sword fighter wouldn’t hurt.” For some reason Brienne didn’t seem to be getting the message. “I wanted to know if you would show interest in being a commander of the Westerland forces.” 

A smile grazed Brienne’s lips and she gave a quick nod. “I would be honoured Ser Jaime.” He smiled and they continued walking. 

Their conversation flowed much simpler now and they were able to delve into much simpler topics. “What do you think about the Queen?” Jaime said abruptly with no flow into whatsoever. 

“The gods flipped their coin, thankfully it landed on the right side,” she said. “Why do you ask?” 

Jaime just shook his head as he pressed his lips together slightly. “Just curious.”

“What will you do when the war is over?” Brienne asked. Jaime pondered the question for a moment. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

 

DAENERYS

The sun glimmered through Daenerys’ window and onto her face, stirring her from her sleep. She turned in her bed and reached across to find for the first time in the previous few mornings that the space was empty. She immediately shot up and looked around the room but didn’t see Jon. She would’ve grown worried had he not walked through the door almost immediately after. “How long have I been asleep?” She asked. 

“Not too long, you seemed peaceful and I didn’t want to wake you,” he replied. She looked down at his hands and saw that he was carrying some clothing. They were too feminine to be his but they weren’t anything like the dresses Daenerys usually wore, but they were embroidered with the Targaryen colours. They were black leather with a dragon scale pattern. Seems like Sansa put her own personal touch. “Put these on,” he said, placing them on the bed. 

Daenerys picked them up and examined them, they were made of the same quality as her dresses she would wear for battle but even still she preferred those. “What do I need these for?” She asked. 

He was standing by the door with a mischievous grin on his face. “You’ll see,” he said as he turned around to wait in the hall for her to get dressed. She didn’t understand why, it’s not like he doesn’t know what it looks like underneath, but they’re not there yet.

She slipped on the clothes and opened the door into the hall where he waited. She followed him down the wall to an open room where Arya was waiting with her hands behind her back as if she was hiding something. “What’s this about?” 

Immediately after Daenerys asked Arya threw a wooden sword in her direction and Daenerys just barely caught it. “Good, your already further ahead than I was when I started,” she teased. 

Daenerys realised what she was here for and she turned to Jon. “Are you sure this is safe for the baby?” She asked, she’d been wary of any sort of activity no matter how unharmful it was. She’s already lost one child and she won’t lose another. 

“I made her promise not to hit you… hard,” Jon giggled and Arya had a mischievous grin much like her brother’s moments earlier. 

“Just light taps, they won’t hurt and I’ll avoid the stomach,” Arya said now being slightly more serious. 

“I would much prefer you be able to protect you and the baby if in the middle of battle were you to be separated from Drogon,” Daenerys was hesitant but willing to attempt to learn. She never required the knowledge of swordplay, she always had her dragons or others, as well as her sharp tongue. But she’s running out of people and maybe finally taking up the art wouldn’t be too poor of an idea. 

“Why aren’t you training me?” Daenerys asked Jon. 

“I have matters to attend to, also she insisted,” Jon turned to leave the two women alone but not before saying one more thing. “Go easy on her Arya.”

“Well, shall we?” Arya asked raising her sword and making a stance and Daenerys tried to replicate it. “Let’s start with trial and error, try to hit me,” Arya said. Daenerys approached slowly taking a swing which Arya easily ducked. “A blind man could have seen that swing coming, don’t wind up so much,” so she didn’t this time and Arya easily parried it. “Don’t strike from the same place twice,” Arya started stepping towards her now. “Now I’m gonna strike from the left,” Daenerys went to block from the left but instead Arya hit from the right. 

“Ow, that wasn’t left,” Daenerys said rubbing her side. 

Arya snickered then went back into a fighting stance. “Never listen to your enemy.”

 

JON

The map was of King’s Landing was laid out before them. It was a smaller group meeting with him, just Jaime, Tyrion, Sansa, and Yara. They would talk with the others after the meeting. “Bannermen from all around Westeros are on their way to the capital, Sansa do we have enough to arm them all?” Jon asked. 

“We do,” Sansa nodded. Bannermen from the Riverlands, Westerlands, Crownlands, Dorne, and the Iron Islands were making their way to the capital. 

“And what about citizens?” Jon didn’t like the thought of throwing citizens into a war but if they were to survive then they’ll need everyone fighting. 

“Not enough to make a difference,” Sansa said as a sort of silent plea to not throw them in. 

“Only take volunteers, men and women, no children,” Jon said. Sansa nodded and turned to begin organizing the arming of their armies. “Yara, anyone that will not be fighting I request that you evacuate to the Iron Islands.” Yara nodded and left the room as well.

Jon then turned to Tyrion. “You know this city better than anyone here, if they breach the walls it will be utter chaos. We can’t risk the wildfire setting off and burning the whole city, I need you to remove and dispose of it.” Jon ordered. 

“While I would advise removing the wildfire, I believe that it could be of great use to us.” Tyrion said moving around the map. “The army of the dead will be attacking us from the northern side, there are escape tunnels that lead underneath there. If we place the caches underneath, then we’ll be able to take a big chunk out of the army.” Jon nodded in approval. They were much better resourced now that they had King’s Landing and for once Tyrion didn’t tell them how they were all going to die soon almost every day. 

“Good, I would also like to make more scorpions. We can tie some caches to the bolts.” 

Tyrion nodded and turned to carry out his orders. “I will get right to it, your grace,” Jon was about to correct him but Tyrion was already too far down the hall.

Now all he was left with was Jaime Lannister. “You weren’t required to attend this meeting Ser,” Jon mumbled. His words seemed resentful but he wasn’t as resentful as one might expect him to be. 

“No I was not but I wanted to see if I could speak to you alone.” Jon nodded and motioned for him to sit down. 

They took two seats by the window overlooking the city. “You know I promised I’d never come here after your son had my father executed,” Jon started. While he trusted Jaime more than before, he still didn’t trust him entirely. He needed to see where his loyalties lie now. 

Jaime bowed his head in shame. “I wasn’t there but I know that Ned Stark deserved better,” Jaime mumbled. He obviously felt remorse and guilt for his actions, but remorse and guilt will never excuse them. Even still, he can make up for those crimes. He’s started to already. 

“I promised myself that I would never step foot in this shit city. And now here I am organizing its defense,” Jon spoke while waving his hand across King’s Landing. 

Jaime just nodded as if he wasn’t worthy to speak with Jon. Whatever happened to the Jaime Lannister he met at Winterfell, the confident, arrogant lion. “What is it you wanted to speak with me alone about?” Jon asked, trying to make it a little less tense. 

“I wanted to ask about the Queen,” Jaime started. “What kind of ruler is she like?” Jon put his glass down. 

He could praise Daenerys for hours but his opinion would seem bias if he were to do that. “Do you remember the wight that we presented to you at the dragonpit?” Jon asked. Jaime gave a curt nod and allowed Jon to continue. “I lead the expedition to retrieve it and at the time I had yet to bend the knee to our Queen. In fact I outright refused,” Jon stated. “We got trapped by the army whilst on this mission and needed to rely on Daenerys to come save us. I, the stubborn King in the North who outright refused to acknowledge her as Queen. And yet she came and saved our lives, losing a dragon in the process.” Jaime looked wide-eyed at this, clearly not expecting a story such as that. “After we returned she promised her forces to defend the North, no promises or assurances from me.” Jon smiled. While the events prior brought him no pleasure that boat held fond memories. “That was when I realised that she is the best ruler for this realm, she protects the people. Not just hers.” Jon wasn’t expecting to go off on this long story about Daenerys but he did. 

Jaime shocked face turned into a slight smile and he nodded as he started to get up. “Thank you for telling me.” Jaime turned and took his leave out of the chamber.

 

TYRION

King’s Landing was bustling with activity now. Stands were set up for brave, able-bodied commonfolk to fight for the living and they already had some joining. Tyrion was walking through the streets with Podrick. There were very few who knew of where the caches were hidden and those who did know didn’t know about nearly enough. That knowledge died when Jaime shoved his sword through Qyburn’s gut. 

He began noticing more and more women eyeing Pod every few seconds. The news of his skill has obviously not dissipated. “Have you been with a woman since that day in King’s Landing?” Tyrion asked. 

Pod gave him an embarrassed look and shook his head. “No m’lord,” he said. 

Tyrion shook his head in disappointment. “I’m sure some whore’s would pay you to show them how to properly fuck,” Tyrion jested and Pod looked away embarrased. “Oh Pod, we have two months before the army of the dead arrives at our gates, enjoy yourself. You needn’t spend your time with me,” Tyrion enjoyed Pod’s company but he assumed Pod would probably rather be somewhere else, in the company of more desirable people. Pod gave a small nod and smile and made turned in the other direction.

Immediately after he departed Bronn came running in Tyrion’s direction. “Found what you're looking for,” he said. 

“Wonderful,” Tyrion said as he took off, following Bronn. Bronn led him down and alley and into a tight crevice. The other side was an endless hall lined with caches, some of the wildfire was already seeping out. “Sanction off this area of the city, don’t allow anyone near. Get to work on removing these caches,” Bronn got to work immediately. The entire city. Tyrion thought to himself. This entire city would’ve all been ash had it not been for Jaime. Oh the things he does for love. 

 

JON

“So have you thought of names?” Davos asked. Him and Davos were walking through the halls of the Red Keep and enjoying the weather. Even though winter was here and it felt colder than it would in the summer it wasn’t quite the chilling cold of real winter. But real winter would arrive in two months. 

“No, not yet,” Jon murmured. In truth he didn’t want to name his son just yet because then he would become too attached. And in the event the Night King gets what he wants he doesn’t want to be more grief stricken than he already would be. 

“But you know it’s a boy?” Davos asked. 

“Yes, Bran seems sure of it and who am I to doubt him,” Jon shrugged. He couldn’t mistrust Bran with the information he had given him. 

“Jon, you can’t give up on him. Act as if this child will come into this world and live a normal life, you’ll be a wonderful father,” Davos argued. 

“I can’t get all excited to have a son and have him suddenly ripped away from me in the moment I get to hold him in my arms, the moment I get to tell him I love him and welcome to the world. If I do that then I won’t survive Davos,” Jon snapped. 

Davos sighed defeated. “This is something that you and the Queen have wanted for a long time, even before you knew each other. Maybe you should see it as a gift,” Jon nods and they walk the rest of the way in an awkward silence.

They turn the corner where Sam is playing with Little Sam. He seemed to have a book in his hands and Sam was desperately trying to chase him. It seemed that Little Sam had finally learned how to run. “Need some help,” Jon chuckled. 

Watching Sam desperately chase a little mischievous boy around brought Jon some sort of enjoyment. “I would appreciate that,” Sam said breathlessly. 

Jon started to chase Little Sam and was able to catch him much faster this time. “C’mon, your father needs that book,” Jon said, pulling the book from Little Sam’s hands. He felt Sam tapping him on the shoulder and he handed him a toy soldier. Jon turned and handed it to Sam. “Here play with this. Much more fun than a big book with a bunch of boring big words,” Jon assured. Little Sam’s face lit up as he took the toy in his hands and ran off waving it in the air. 

Sam approached beside him, his face beaming. “You’ll be a great father Jon, you’re already better with my boy than I am. I can only imagine how you’ll be with your own,” Jon looked down with a smaller but still evident smile on his face. 

He didn’t think about his child as a blessing as often as he should. It was difficult with the looming threat of death coming for his child in the coming days. “You’re a great father Sam,” Jon said, patting him on the shoulder. Sam turned to face him and brought him in for an embrace. “You and the Queen have done many impossible things. This is just another on your long list,” Sam assured. 

Jon pulled him in for a tighter hug. “Gods I hope so,” Jon mumbled. 

“My lord, there was that ‘thing’ you were promised to do,” Davos interrupted. 

Jon looked back and nodded. “Right, of course.”

They emerge on the roof of the Red Keep in a large open area. Jon keeps walking but notices that Davos has disappeared from his side. He turns around and sees Davos hiding in the side of the doorway. “You promised Daenerys, not me,” Davos quivered. 

Jon sighed a laugh and continued walking forward. Once he arrived near the ledge he looked up and waited. Soon enough Drogon’s shadow flew over him and he landed there with him in the opening. Drogon looked at Jon and Jon looked at Drogon. Both just sat there staring until Drogon flopped down onto his stomach and laid down with his head right next to Jon. Jon decided to sit down with him as he looked over the city. Jon had promised Daenerys earlier on in the day that if she has to spend the whole day sword training then he has to be the one to check on Drogon. He looked at Drogon who was looking forward with sadness in his eyes. He was the last dragon now, but he’d have a human brother now. Maybe that would make him feel better.

Jon didn’t know what he was doing but he was going to try and talk to a dragon. “I know how it hurts to lose your family, I lost two brothers the same as you,” Jon didn’t know why but it seemed as if Drogon understood his words. So Jon kept talking. “But the more family you lose, just makes the family you have all the more precious. You have lost two brothers, but you still have your mother and me. And soon enough you’ll have a little baby brother running around and hugging your snout,” Jon smiled at the thought of him teaching his son how to ride horses, how to sword fight. Maybe even one day riding with his family on Drogon. “They are what matters most now and you have to protect them with fire and blood, because winter has come.”

 

SANSA

The recruitment of common folk went along well, there weren’t many volunteering to fight which Sansa was thankful for and for the most part they had no family which sat with her conscience slightly better. To ease it more she made her way to pay a visit to Arya and Daenerys who have been training for the entirety of a day. She was able to find them with the sound of the wood clashing clicking together and Arya’s ‘hya’s” and the occasional “ow” from Daenerys.

When she finally arrived, she was expecting to see Arya completely dominating over Daenerys but she was surprised to find that Daenerys was able to hold back against her. She watched as the two went back and forth, dodging and parrying. Even though Daenerys appeared to be a natural at swordplay she still couldn’t land a hit on Arya. Arya hit her on the behind with her sword, they were light taps and nothing to worry about. Sansa’s giggling gave her away and both looked at her.

“Care to join?” Arya called. Sansa waved her hand dismissively and made her way to Daenerys, staring at the slight visible swell of her belly. 

“May I?” Sansa asked, motioning her hands towards her abdomen. Daenerys gave her a nod and Sansa placed her hands. She could feel the swell and felt excited at the prospect of a new Stark in the world. A boy according to Bran. “Have you thought of names yet?” Sansa questioned. 

Daenerys shook her head. “I’m not sure if Jon wants to discuss names right now. With all the earth shattering news we’ve received in such a short amount of time it’s difficult to talk about any of it,” Daenerys explained. 

Sansa could barely imagine the turmoil that Jon was experiencing. Finding out the woman he loves shares his blood and now discovering that she’s pregnant with his child. Not only pregnant but that child might not even live to see the sun. It all sounded unbearable. “You two should talk about it. Don’t talk about it like it’s a curse. Talk about it like it’s a gift, a gift you have to protect with everything you have,” Sansa implored. 

Daenerys’ eyes twinkled at Sansa curiously and then she broke into a smile. “Thank you Lady Sansa for your kind words,” Daenerys beamed. 

“You and Jon we’ll be wonderful parents, and your son will rule graciously over Westeros. I know it,” Sansa assured. Daenerys closed her eyes and gave Sansa a tight smile and nodded. 

Arya cleared her throat behind Sansa and she turned around as Daenerys looked over her shoulder. “If you don’t mind you’re sort of intruding on my lesson,” Arya interrupted. 

Sansa nodded and turned around to leave. “I’ll leave you to it.”

 

ARYA

Arya finally offered Daenerys some time to calm herself. Training her was difficult, she didn’t want to overwork her and he couldn’t hit her because she was pregnant. Which took all the fun out of training people. But even still she was enjoying training the Mother of Dragons.

She heard Daenerys huffed out a frustrated breath by the window as she stared intently at something happening outside on the ground. Arya joined her at the window and spotted her brother training himself. He had three Unsullied volunteers and was fighting all three of them at the same time. “How is this sword training supposed to be of any use if he can do all that and I can barely land a hit up here,” Daenerys complained.

“We’re not training you to become an infantry soldier, just enough for you to defend yourself if need be,” Arya claimed. “Should we get back to it?”

Daenerys picked her sword back up and got into the stance Arya showed her. Daenerys makes the first move and isn’t swinging the way she should be and Arya’s able to stop her easily. She swings at her belly, just stopping short before she made contact. “Dead,” she teased. Daenerys threw her sword to the ground in frustration and sat down on the nearby stairs.

Arya sighed and joined her by the stairs. “Swordplay isn’t an easy thing to pick up right away, you need a lot more time before your gonna be as good as Jon,” Arya assured.

“It’s just that,” Daenerys hesitated. “I’m going to be utterly useless during this fight because I’m going to be forced to stay behind while everyone else fights to protect me. I should be out there when the time comes, fighting alongside everyone on the back of Drogon.”

Arya understood Daenerys’ issues. She wouldn’t expect her to want to stay behind while the rest of everyone else fights. “Your child is the Night King’s goal, you need to be as far away from him as possible.”

 

“I know I just… I just feel useless.”

Arya got up and picked up both the swords. “Well get up and let’s make you feel less useless.”

Daenerys rose from her place on the stairs and Arya tossed her a sword. “Now that attack that I’ve been doing a lot so far. Instead of blocking it like you’ve been doing, you should spin away from it and strike me from behind.” Arya got into her fighting stance and did the attack she’d been doing for the entirety for a length of the training session. She expected it to take a few attempts before she got it but Daenerys did it perfectly immediately; knocking Arya on her arse. Arya took a moment to realize that she was on the ground. “Well alright then, I guess that means I’ll have to actually try now,” Arya taunted. 

Daenerys backed away and allowed her to get up. They were ready to resume training before Tyrion came into the room. “Your grace, we’ve just received word from Brandon Stark that the army of the dead has caught the Riverlands army.” 

Daenerys and Arya looked on in shock and Arya took the sword from Daenerys and put it away. “Well I think that’s enough for today, get some rest your grace,” with that Arya took off out the door.

 

DAENERYS

The sun set and the inky black of night has fully enveloped the sky. Daenerys cuddles in bed with Jon. They didn’t really do anything more than that but it felt better nonetheless that he was there in contrast to her previous few nights. They usually just stay up talking until it’s too much of a burden to continue attempting to keep their eyes open. Sometimes relying on the surprisingly loud snoring of Ghost as he slept by the fire.

“The Riverlands army got attacked by the army of the dead,” Daenerys mumbles. Jon sighs and bumps his head back on the backboard. “And I know that your uncle was lord of the Riverlands.”

Jon seems to tense up a little bit but settles back down. “I never really knew him very well.”

They lay there some more before Daenerys spoke up once again. “I look forward to taking our son on dragon rides,” she stated. Maybe if she just talked about their son as if nothing terrible was coming for him then it would be alright and he would live.

“Daenerys-”

“I’m sure Drogon will love him, Ghost as well. He’s such a kind nurturing direwolf. And Missandei will-”

“Daenerys stop,” Jon sobbed as he moved her to look into his eyes.

But Daenerys wouldn’t accept it. Their child would live, their child would live, she would tell herself. “No Jon, I won’t stop. Our son will survive and even if he doesn’t,” she struggled to say those last words. “If he doesn’t then shouldn’t we cherish the time we have with him?”

Jon closed his eyes and sighed. “What should we name him?”

Daenerys smiled at this. She had thought about names for weeks but nothing really functioned. She wanted to demand Jon’s opinion but she figured he didn’t want to discuss that. “Well since he’ll be a Stark I believe it only be fair he have a Targaryen name.”

“No,” Jon said. “He should be a Targaryen. Your house needs to return to the world.”

“Well then, a northern name?” Daenerys smiled.

Jon put his head back on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling, thinking to himself. “I only had one sibling who had a family. His son would have had his fourth name day by now,” he raised his head to meet her eyes. “His name was Robb.”

“So, should we honour him?” Daenerys suggested. “Name our little dragon-wolf after the brave young wolf?”

He moved his hands down to her belly and smiled. “First of his name, Prince of the Andals and the First Men and heir to the Seven Kingdoms.” He paused before saying his name, he had refused to say name him for too long now but being able to say it out loud felt wonderful. “Prince Robb Targaryen.”


	8. Episode 8: The Last of the Starks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night before the dead arrive in King's Landing

JAIME

 

He’d put thought into this decision, it was the right decision. He knew it was. But he was so sure in a previous time as well and it severely damaged him. Even still, he felt as sure as he did that day as well. He knew what he should do. He seeked out the Queen and found she was in the throne room. He expected he’d find her sitting on the iron throne but he didn’t. When he opened the large doors he found the Queen standing still on the floor, admiring the seat of swords from afar.  _ Had she even touched the throne yet? _

 

He stood there for a small amount of time more before he cleared his throat. She turned around and he was met with her face.  _ Everything people say about her is right. This is the right decision. _

 

“Yes Ser Jaime?” Daenerys questioned.

 

Jaime took a tentative step forward before he looked at her again.  _ I’m sure of this. _ “I came to speak with you, your grace.”

 

Daenerys gave him a nod as encouragement to continue. “I understand all mistrust and feelings of disgust you most probably feel for me, I served your father as Kingsguard and I dishonoured my vows to him,” she knew the story, Jaime didn’t know why he was simply repeating it to her again. But it should be addressed before he does this. “I served three other Kings after him, two of which were my own sons. They were all terrible and after them the thought of ever serving as Kingsguard again appealed not to me.” Jaime paused before continuing.  _ She’s a good person. I’m right about this.  _ “Until you,” Jaime removed his sword and Daenerys instinctively backed away but moved forward again when Jaime kneeled, placing his sword in the ground. “As I’m sure you’re aware, the Kingsguard vows are for life. So I ask that you allow me to serve you, for this war, and all the wars to come. Now and always.”

 

Daenerys offered him a warm smile as she motioned her hand for him to rise. “It would be my honour, Ser Jaime Lannister.”

  
  


JON

 

The second month of waiting for the dead to arrive was quickly reaching its end. They were to hold one final council meeting to ensure they were well prepared for the war.

 

Jon and Daenerys sat at the front of the table and went over the progress. “Tyrion, have all the caches been put into place?” Daenerys asked.

 

“Yes your grace, however we have only been able to find just below half of the caches. I’m afraid that their presence in the city is still quite prominent.”

 

“We still have time, make it less prominent,” Daenerys responded. Tyrion gave a quick nod.

 

“We have also successfully armed the walls of the city with scorpions once again,” Tyrion said.

 

Daenerys and Jon both nodded in thanks, then turned their attention to Yara.

 

“The common folk have all been evacuated to the Iron Islands, your grace,” Yara chimed in.

 

They both looked at Yara thankfully and looked over at Sansa. “Have you recruited some of the common folk?” Jon asked. Sansa gave a quick nod. “That would be all that was required to discuss, everyone retire for the night. We must all be as well rested as possible for the coming battle.”

 

The small council one by one slowly departed from the chamber, however Tyrion elected to remain. Worry was plastered across his face and his lips were pressed together tightly as if he wished to say something but at the same time did not. Jon didn’t say anything, just looked on at him expectantly until he spoke.

 

After much hesitation Tyrion seemed to muster the courage to speak. “Your grace, before you order my head for this I would much appreciate if you take what I’m saying into consideration.”

 

Jon and Daenerys both leaned forward simultaneously and silently urged Tyrion to continue. His throat bobbed as he swallowed and took a deep breath before speaking once more. “The Night King wants your child and will stop at nothing to obtain him. Perhaps we should consider offering the Night King what he wants.”

 

Jon immediately shot up to his feet, knocking his chair to the ground and marching over to Lord Tyrion. He stood over him intimidatingly as Tyrion averted his gaze. “Under no circumstance will we be handing over my son over to that monster!” he screamed.

 

Tyrion gulped before he spoke. “I understand that this seems like a terrible decision but perhaps it should be taken into consideration. The likelihood of our victory is still incredibly low. Why should one life stand in the way of saving millions of others?”

 

“That option was never nor will it ever be taken into consideration,” Jon growled. “Now if you prefer your head attached to your body I would suggest you leave now without another word.”

 

Tyrion quickly removed himself from his seat and rushed out of the door. Once the door was closed Jon turned to Daenerys and immediately rushed towards her. “Are you alright?” he asked.

 

Daenerys nodded her head while she held her hands closer to her belly, tighter than ever. “You’re right, the Night King will never get anywhere near our son. Ever!” she screamed.

 

Jon grabbed her and held her tighter. She wasn’t crying but she needed the support as much as he needed hers. After they pulled away she looked across the table at a seat that was meant for someone who didn’t appear. “Where in seven hells is commander Naharis?” she demanded.

 

Jon threw his head back with an audible sigh and got up from his knees. “I think I know where I’ll find him.”

 

“Well he better have a good reason for his absence from today’s council meeting.”

 

Jon knew he didn’t but in Daenerys’ state he didn’t want to risk what she might do to Daario were she to find where he was choosing to spend his time.

 

Jon made his way out of the Red Keep and into the streets of King’s Landing. Streets that used to be bustling with activity and families was now empty and quiet, spare a few who are still yet to be evacuated just yet. The last evacuation ship was to leave at first light.

 

Jon made his way down the cobblestone streets to a nicely built establishment which he never envisioned himself entering but did anyways.

 

Once he entered, the building was swarming with women wearing practically nothing and one man wearing actual clothes wandering around.

 

He quickly spotted Jon and moved towards him. “Sir, are you looking for a room?” the man asked as one of the women began slowly approaching. Jon attempted desperately to keep his gaze towards the floor.

 

“No, actually I believe a friend of mine is using this establishment currently. Did a man by the name of Daario Naharis enter earlier this evening?” Jon asked the man.

 

“Ah yes, follow me and I will bring you to him.”

 

Jon followed the man up a spiral staircase, careful to keep his eyes on the floor and avoid looking at the countless women traipsing around with their breasts on full display.

 

They reached a room with a closed door where Jon’s guide came to a stop. “He’s in there, I would advise waiting.”   
  


But Jon decided against it. If he got interrupted it was his own fault. Much to Jon’s relief when he opened the door Daario wasn’t in the middle of certain ‘activities’. But being fed grapes by three beautiful Dornish women.

 

Daario turned his head to Jon and flopped his head back onto the bed as he sighed. “Surely you know the meaning of a closed door in a whore house.”

 

Jon ignored him and walked over to the table and poured two wine goblets. “You were absent from the council meeting this evening.”

 

Daario moved himself into a sitting position while the women still picked grapes from their stems and fed them to him. “Oh? Did the Queen miss me dearly?” Daario jested.

 

Jon shook his head as he handed Daario a wine goblet and sat down on a nearby chair. “You’re a commander of her armies, you should be present at war meetings,” Jon spoke as he swallowed down his wine. “I hope ‘this’ was worth it.”

 

“Oh believe me it was. I’ve quickly learned that the Dornish women are the best when it comes to the fine art of pleasure,” Daario laughed.

 

One of the women turned their attention to Jon and moved her spot on the bed. “Care to join us handsome?”

 

“Unfortunately that’s not what I’m here for,” Jon said as he desperately attempted to look at anything else.

 

“Oh come on Stark. What could a few rounds hurt, I’m sure the Queen would greatly appreciate what these women could teach you,” Daario stated.

 

Jon just shook his head and smiled as he kept his eyes on his wine, swirling it around.

 

“I think I do just fine thank you.”

 

Another man entered the room covered in sweat entered the room. Jon looked up and saw it was in fact Podrick. His face turned red when he saw inside the room and turned around, clearly he was in the wrong room. Before he could leave the room Daario yelled after him. “You’re not murdering anyone correct? I heard rather loud screaming coming from the other room.”

 

Podrick quickly ran out of the room, obviously embarrassed as Daario laughed. “Don’t know what he’s so embarrassed about, if I could make a woman scream like that I’d spread the word around the world.”

 

“I’m sure you would,” Jon smiled. He’d quickly grown accustomed to the sellsword, even if it was difficult to talk sometimes when he would not so subtly hint at his past relationship with Daenerys.

 

Jon rose from his seat and straightened his clothes. “Alright you’ve had your fun, now time to return to the keep if you would.”

 

Daario simply shook his head. “I’ll be returning when I’m good and ready,” he said as he turned to one of the women.

 

“I don’t wish to drag you out of here,” Jon said.

 

Daario stopped and turned back to Jon. “I will come with you if you can perform that knife trick I taught you.”

 

Jon sighed out of his nose and removed his dagger from his belt. He’d been practicing and had been really close the final few times but could never manage to complete the trick. He took a deep breath and spun the dagger around like Daario had shown him and finally completed it.

 

Daario’s eyes widened and Jon looked at him expectantly. Daario sighed and removed his blanket while Jon averted his gaze to the ceiling to allow Daario to dress himself. Once Daario was dressed he patted Jon on the shoulder, signaling he was ready to leave. “You’re no fun Stark,” he said as they exited the room.

  
  


SANSA

 

Sansa tossed and turned in her bed as she struggled to find sleep, or allow sleep to find her. She decided to give up on sleep and find someone who was also awake to converse with until she found her tiredness. She quickly threw on some warmer clothes and departed from her chambers.

 

She was struggling to find anyone, the halls were mostly empty, spare the Unsullied guards who would make for poor conversation anyways. She continued searching until she came upon a balcony where she found her brother situated, overlooking the city.

 

She came up and took a seat beside him. Jon silently poured her a drink of ale as Sansa attempted to drink it. Once it entered her throat she grimaced, alcohol never really took to her.

 

“Couldn’t sleep?” Jon asked.

 

“No, I suppose you couldn’t either.”

 

They both continued to sit there and something was clearly traipsing around through Jon’s mind so Sansa decided to ask. “What’s on your mind, brother?”

 

Jon sighed as if he knew she wouldn’t appreciate what he was going to say and sure enough she didn’t. “The final ship carrying the common folk leaves at first light. You will be on that ship.”

 

Sansa’s eyes widened at her brother and she quickly objected. “I will not helplessly wait on an island while my people stay behind and fight for me!”

 

“Sansa-” but she quickly interrupted him.

 

“Why should my men fight for me if I won’t fight for them?”

 

Jon looked at her with his eyes widened and let out an exasperated sigh. “I hate it when you use my words against me.”

 

“I’m using your words against you because they’re true, I’m going to fight for my people and you can’t stop me from doing so.”

 

Jon rose from his seat and kneeled down in front of her, placing a hand on her knee. “We might not win.”

 

“If we lose then I would rather be here when we do instead of waiting on an island for my inevitable death.”

 

Jon clenched his jaw as he looked at her more desperately. “We might win, but we won’t all survive through it.”

 

“I already told you Jon that I will die before I allow the Night King to lay a hand on your child.” Sansa’s stubbornness to stay behind seemed to wash over Jon as he hesitantly gave up and rose to his feet.

 

He gave a chaste kiss to her forehead before walking away to leave. “Goodnight Sansa.”

  
  


DAENERYS

 

Arya awoke her early every morning to train with the wooden swords. Over the past two months Daenerys had advanced in her training at a vast rate. While she still wouldn’t defeat Arya in single combat she could last much longer than the average person. It was also difficult for Arya because she couldn’t hit Daenerys, only tap with her sword.

 

The two women went back and forth, swords colliding. Daenerys would block two of Arya’s attacks then dodge the third. Daenerys would give a flurry of attacks that Arya would expertly dodge. For the first time Daenerys had the advantage, had Arya on the defensive and just barely parrying her advances. Daenerys his Arya’s sword away, giving her and opening. As she went to strike the door opened as Jon waltzed out into the courtyard.

 

Daenerys looked to Jon and raised her arms at him. Jon just chuckled and descended the stairs. He made his way over to Arya and held his hand out for her sword. “May I go a few rounds?”

 

Arya smiled as she handed Jon the sword and took off with Nymeria right behind her. Jon turned his attention to Daenerys and raised his sword as Daenerys raised hers.

 

“How are you feeling?” Jon asked as he advanced, throwing a strike. Daenerys quickly parried it and countered with her own. Jon ducked underneath it and wound up on the other side.

 

“What do you mean?” She struck once again and Jon parried once again.

 

“I know that what Tyrion said could be upsetting and I just wanted to make sure-”

 

Before Jon could finish he was interrupted by Daenerys. “I’d prefer not to talk about it.”

 

“If there is anything you’ve shown me over the past few days it’s that not talking about our issues is won’t make things any better,” Jon lunged forth. He smacked her sword away and plunged his wooden sword at her chest, stopping just short of it. “You’re dead.”

 

Daenerys smacked his sword away in frustration and backed away to prepare for another round. He examined her face and saw that she was worried. He continued fighting nonetheless but continued to pry. “What’s wrong Dany?”

 

Daenerys simply shook her head and lunged forth to strike, which Jon quickly dodged. “I told you, I don’t want to speak about it.”

 

Jon wasn’t taking the hint and continued to press on. “We need to talk about-”

 

“I’m afraid!” She screamed, throwing her sword to the ground.

 

Jon plopped his sword down at his side and strode over to her. “Afraid of what?” he asked, concerned.

 

“Afraid that he’s right,” she spoke with unshed tears.

 

Jon quickly pulled her into an embrace as he struggled to keep tears at bay. “He’s not right, I’ll kill the Night King I promise.”

 

She looked up at him and shook her head. “And what if you don’t? What if he wins?”

 

Jon pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers. “Don’t even think like that. He won’t.”

 

While Jon was distracted he suddenly felt the pressure of something under his chin. He opened his eyes to see Daenerys smirking at him as he looked down to see her wooden sword placed under his chin. “You’re dead.” she breathed.

 

Their faces began drawing closer before something wet and cold fell on Daenerys’ nose. She pulled away and looked up at the sky. Slowly more began to appear and fall upon the two. Daenerys held out her hand and the flakes melted upon impact. She turned to look at Jon and saw he was smiling up at the sky as his the snow stuck to his raven black hair.

 

A wide smile drew across her face as she grabbed him by the arms and spun him around in circles. He then halted and drew her closer as they swayed back and forth while the snow continued to fall around them. Suddenly nothing mattered then, not the throne, not the Night King, not Westeros. She would live everyday like it was her last, because it very well may be.

  
  


TYRION

 

He once again found himself drinking the night before the battle as his comrades surrounded him. Even though some were not present. He passed the drink around and made sure to not get drunk this time because he would actually be a part of the battle. The atmosphere amongst the group he elected to drink with tonight was not pleasant. Jaime sat and stared at the ground, Brienne seemed uncomfortable even being there, Samwell Tarly had already departed for the Iron Islands, and Podrick was just leaning back in his chair and staring up at the ceiling. There wasn’t much Tyrion could do to lighten the mood, any attempt fell completely flat.

 

He heard the sounds of two men laughing as they approached the hall. When they entered he saw the Warden of the North and the Commander of the Second Sons. When Daario spotted Tyrion he looked around the room, seeing the rest of the group rather sollem.

 

But Daario seemed in a good mood.  _ Finally someone to help me. _ “Evening lads,” Daario spoke as he took a seat. Everybody else just nodded without a response and Daario just turned his attention to Tyrion who raised his eyebrows as a way to silently ask for help. “Let’s play a game Tyrion.”

 

Tyrion gave him a nod in gratitude as he started explaining the rules. “Well seeing as I’d prefer to keep everyone sober for the battle, let’s play this game without drinks,” Tyrion spoke. Everyone started to rise in their seats and Tyrion explained how it would work. “Typically I would guess aspects of your past and I would drink if I was wrong, but I’d like to stay sober so no drinking. So instead,” Tyrion said as he removed a pouch of gold and placed it on the table. “If I’m wrong, you get some gold.” The only person intrigued by the gold was Daario. 

 

Everyone nodded but still didn’t seem too enthused so he started with someone who seemed to be in the right state of mind. “Jon, you first.” Jon sat up ready to answer questions. Tyrion thought for a moment before answering. “You were a virgin before you met Daenerys.” Daario raised an eyebrow and looked at Jon. Jon smiled and held out his hand for some gold. Tyrion was shocked to hear this. “You broke your vows while at the wall? With whom?”

 

Jon seemed to grow sad at the memory which made Tyrion think the story of this woman was not a pleasant one. “A wildling.”

 

“Oh? Did she live up to the wild part?” Tyrion jested which made Jon laugh.

 

“No more questions about her.” Tyrion took a coin from the sack and handed it to Jon and he prepared his next question.

 

“You’ve always been jealous of your older brother,” Tyrion claimed. Jon gave a slight nod of the head and Tyrion felt himself proud even though it was obvious.

 

Tyrion’s next question came out without much thought. “You’ve died.”   
  


Jon’s smile quickly faded and he looked away as if he was embarrassed. Tyrion quickly realized what he’d said and tried to get back on track. “I’m sorry that slipped out I’m sure you don’t-”

 

“It’s alright Lord Tyrion,” Jon interrupted. “Well, I think I’ll be retiring for the night.”

 

Jon got up and straightened his clothes and left down the hall. Tyrion huffed out a breath before trying to get back on track. “Well, um. Did you know I once brought a honeycomb and a jackass into a brothel?”

  
  


JON

 

Jon was on his way back to the chambers he currently shared with Daenerys when he heard laughter coming from a balcony. Jon turned and looked to see his two sisters sitting and drinking. He smiled and decided he’d join them for a little bit, not wanting to completely intrude.

 

He came up from behind and Arya turned around and smiled. Both Nymeria and Ghost were passed out on the ground, lightly snoring. “You’re not drunk, are ye?” Jon asked them both.

 

“We know our limits,” Arya giggled.

 

Jon nodded and smiled to himself as he sat down beside them, pouring himself a drink. “How are you both feeling?”

 

Sansa pursed her lips and gave tsked. “Trying to feel better.”

 

“What’s your plan for when the war’s over?” Jon asked, trying to sound confident that they’ll win

 

He looked first to his youngest sister Arya. “I want to see what’s west of Westeros, nobody seems to know.”

 

Jon raised his eyebrows chuckled. “I’m sure Bran could just tell you.”

 

“Well there’s no fun in that,” Arya laughed.

 

Jon smiled to himself and thought about what he would do when the war was over. Raise his family? Go back North? Maybe go to Essos and see Meereen? He then turned his gaze to Sansa and raised his eyebrows. She took another sip of her ale and spoke. “I suppose take care of the North. You’ll want to stay here and raise the Prince.”  _ Well, she seems to know what I should do.  _

 

They sat in content silence until Jon spoke again. “Do you ever think back to where we started?” Jon asked them both.

 

“Everyday,” Arya sighed. All three of them longed to return to that time, do everything different. Save the ones they’ve lost.

 

“Father, mother, Robb, Rickon,” Sansa listed of the ones they’ve lost. “Now it’s just us three.”

 

“The last of the Starks,” Arya finished. 

  
Jon thought it briefly but told himself no. It’s like Daenerys said, he is a Stark, and a Targaryen, and a Snow. He doesn’t have to choose. “Whatever happens, I love both of you.” Jon smiled at them and they returned them.  _ I’ll see those smiles again when this is over. _ He thought to himself. The bells began to ring urgently and Jon knew what that meant, they were here. He looked to both of his sisters and they all simultaneously nodded. Ghost and Nymeria both shot up and moved to their masters while they all split off down different halls.  _ The pack will survive.  _ Jon thought to himself.  _ The pack will survive. _


	9. Episode 9: The Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final battle between the living and the dead.

TYRION

 

The bells around the city ring vigorously and Tyrion and the rest of his group have to remove themselves from their chairs and face the cold harsh reality. _Death is here. Here for us all._ What a wonderful night. Brienne, Davos, and Daario had already left and were on their way to the walls of the city. Jaime was preparing to leave and sheathing his sword.

 

Before Jaime could turn around to leave Tyrion grabs him by the arm to keep him for a moment longer. “We may never see each other again.”

 

Jaime nodded with sadness evident in his eyes. “I suppose that could be true.”

 

Tyrion kept his tears at bay but his sadness was evident in the way his voice cracked as he spoke. “If it weren’t for you, I never would have survived my childhood.”

 

Jaime shook his head as redness engulfed his eyes. “You would have managed.”

 

But Tyrion just shook his head in return as a single tear escaped from the bindings he kept on the water developing in his eyes as it strayed down his cheek. “You were the only one, who didn’t treat me like a monster,” he whimpered. “You were all I had.”

 

Jaime bent down and drew his brother in a tight embrace as his tears finally fell and Tyrion sobbed into his shoulder. “I love you little brother,” he sobbed.

 

Tyrion pulled away and nodded. “I love you too big brother.”

 

They exited the room and the two lions walked they’re separate ways.

  


JON

 

“Remember don’t enter the battle unless we know where the Night King is positioned,” Jon said as both he and Daenerys jogged up the stairs to the open area of the roof.

 

“I know,” Daenerys responded quickly.

 

“We have enough men this time around, you needn’t worry,” Jon said frantically as they finally exited onto the roof and awaited Drogon to appear.

 

“I know,” she said with slight irritation in her voice.

 

“And remember to-”

 

“Jon! Everything you’re telling me I already know!” she turned away in frustration as Drogon landed. 

 

She began approaching before she was pulled away by his strong hand grasping her wrist. “Wait,” he said as he spun her back around. He took a deep breath before speaking his mind. “I know I haven’t said it much lately, in fact I don’t think I’ve said it ever. But you know I love you, right?”

 

The irritation present on her face quickly dissipated and was replaced with a warm smile as she quickly pulled him in for a kiss before he could even react. She pulled away and caressed his bearded cheek one last time before leaving. “I know,” she whispered as she turned around and mounted Drogon, commanding him to fly away. As she looked back she still saw him watching her the whole way. “I love you too.”

  


MISSANDEI

 

She walked with her Unsullied soldier as he prepared to move outside the gates. He would be meeting the dead head on and she feared she would never see him ever again. She pulled him in quickly for their possible last kiss. As she pulled away she still held him close, held him close as long as she possibly could before she had to let him go. _“Avy jorrāelan,”_ she slipped out without thought, but she didn’t regret it.

 

Grey Worm pulled away and looked into her eyes. _“Avy jorrāelan tolī,”_ he whispered as he pulled away and marched in line with the rest of the Unsullied out of the gates and to the outside of the walls.

 

Missandei did not attempt to keep her tears at bay at the possibility of her seeing Grey Worm for the final time, but she found her strength to walk back to the Red Keep.

 

Just as she was halfway there she noticed a door left open to a house, she looked back to the keep, then back to the house. She turned away and in the direction of the open door, shutting and bolting it. If her Unsullied were to die on this night, then she would be soon after.

  


SANSA

 

The tree line hid the dead from view but she knew they were there. Their scent was quite noticeable and she picked up on it quickly back at Winterfell. _Winterfell._ What would she do if they were to win? Would she return? Winterfell was most likely now a pile of burned cobblestone that used to make a castle, her home. Winterfell wasn’t her home anymore, it held far too many terrible memories in place of the fond ones. If she were to return, she would rebuild Winterfell into something that was hers. Somewhere to make fond memories in place of the terrible ones.

 

Arya joined her at her side with Nymeria with her. “They’re here,” Arya spoke.

 

“Yes they are,” Sansa responded.

 

“What are they doing?” Arya questioned. The dead weren’t charging them but instead seemed to be waiting intently behind the treeline.

 

“I don’t know,” Sansa simply responded. 

 

Jon joined them as well with Ghost by his side. “Shouldn’t you be down there?” Arya asked.

 

Jon gave a quick shake of his head and looked back towards the battlefield. The Unsullied were lined up in formation along with the Golden Company infantry and Second Sons. “There’s already enough down there as it is. Besides, they already have Daario and Grey Worm to command them, I’m not needed.” Jon reached into the pockets on the back of his trousers and pulled out a dragonglass dagger. “For you,” he said as he handed it to Sansa.

 

Sansa took it gratefully and shoved it into her pockets. Tonight she elected to abandon her usual black dresses and chose more practical trousers and tunic, but with their own Stark direwolf flair to them. She didn’t know how to fight but she was going to. She had to protect her pack and that meant fighting alongside them. She was a wolf and she would protect her others.

  


JAIME

 

When he arrived and mounted the walls he saw her immediately, standing taller than the rest and overlooking the battlefield, valyrian steel sword at her side. Jaime approached her quickly and she looked at him nervously. “Brienne.”

 

“Jaime,” she replied.

 

“I don’t really know what to say, it feels as if tonight is just filled with farewells,” Jaime mumbled under his breath.

 

Brienne avoided looking at him at chose to observe the battlefield. “Yes I suppose saying goodbye would get rather difficul-”  


She was interrupted by his lips on hers in a chaste kiss that was far too quick but as soon as it started it ended.

 

He looked at her and gave a quick nod. “Goodbye,” he said as he turned and headed to his position of command on the wall.

  


TYRION

 

Tyrion stood on the wall once again, watching the rest of the men fall into line. He wore Lannister coloured armour, similar to the armour he wore at the Battle of the Blackwater, and an axe at his side. His thoughts were interrupted by a hand on his shoulder as he looked up to where Bronn was standing beside him. “Hi there, haven’t seen ye recently.”

 

“I almost forgot you were here,” Tyrion jested with his old friend. “Where have you been?”

 

“Been living in the brothels,” Bronn chuckled. “I s’pose I won’t be firin’ an arrow tonight?”

 

“No, the wildfire will be triggered by a line once the dead cross and break it.”

 

Bronn simply nodded. “If I survive this, I think I’ve earned a fookin castle by now.”

 

Tyrion gave a slight smirk before his face returned to his somber expression. Bronn looked over to his right and saw Podrick approaching, giving him a knowing smirk. “You oughta teach me what you were doing’ to those women, never heard em’ scream like that.”

 

“I would like to speak with lord Tyrion,” Podrick gulped.

 

Bronn chuckled slightly harder. “Aye, I’m sure Tyrion would appreciate some advice from you.”

 

“Could you give us a moment Bronn?” Tyrion interrupted.

 

Bronn’s face became slightly more serious as he patted both the men on their shoulders. “Don’t die, either of ye. I enjoy your company.” With that he took off in the direction in which he came, leaving just Tyrion and Pod.

 

“Are you feeling nervous?” Tyrion asked, an obvious question but an attempt to fill the air of awkwardness that surrounded everyone tonight.

 

“Of course my lord,” Podrick responded with his usual respectful tone.

 

“Please Podrick, you can drop the formalities for the night,” he responded. “Tyrion shall do just fine.”

 

Podrick smiled at him as Tyrion went over and embraced his loyal squire. “Don’t die my dear boy.”

 

“Nor you, Tyrion,” Podrick smiled.

 

They stared off into the battlefield and their mood quickly darkened once again at the sight of the open field and the looming darkness. A white snowflake fell on Tyrion’s face, and then another. Soon enough snow was coming down heavy in the night. Normally it would be beautiful but tonight it just made Tyrion feel more dread then he already did, all it did was serve as confirmation that they were here.

  


DAARIO

 

Daario had never seen this wildfire been put to use and all he could do was rely on the word of the half-man and the stories of many others. Hearing about the army of the dead and standing before them were two entirely different things. Even though he couldn’t see them, their presence was so ominous he felt as if his last meal was beginning to return to the surface.

 

The winds direction suddenly shifted and began blowing in the direction of which the army sat, bringing the flakes of snow raining down upon them along with it. He then heard many terrible screeches by what he could only assume were the wights. Then he heard what sounded like the rumbling of thunder as it grew louder and louder. The army was charging and charging fast. “Shields up!” he screamed and the Golden Company readied there shields and spears.

 

He prayed that the imp was correct about this ‘wildfire’. He got his first glimpse of the ugly bastards as they broke through the treeline. They ranged from nothing but bone to just recently deceased and beginning to decay. As quickly as they charged through they were gone as they erupted into green flames as a huge explosion emerged from underneath them, eliminating what had to at least be half of their army. They blocked some of the debris using their shields. Daario smiled as the bones scattered across the field from the bodies destroyed by the explosion. 

 

The dead charged through the gaps in the flames and towards the unsullied. “Sumbe bē!” Grey Worm screamed and the Unsullied got into the ready position.

 

“Hold the line!” Daario ordered and the Golden Company got their spears ready. 

 

On the wall Tyrion ordered the men operating the scorpions. “Load!” The men placed the scorpions with the caches attached to the bolts and waited for the order. “Loose!” Tyrion screamed. The bolts were let loose all across the field in explosions of wildfire. Wights burst into pieces on the impact of the bolts and others around them exploded as soon as the wildfire made impact with the ground.

 

The Unsullied and Golden Company were holding the line well with the help of the scorpions. The advances of the wights comes to a sudden halt. The thunderous sound of charging wights is heard again as they begin approaching as a giant wave of bodies. It proves to be too much for the heavy infantry to handle and they get plowed over by them. Tyrion watches in horror as unsullied after unsullied get stabbed to death and tossed aside to kill the next one.

  


DAENERYS

 

Daenerys watches on from her hidden perch away from the battle as her people get butchered by the dead. She knows the plan, she knows what Jon told her to do but she just can’t watch on as her people get slaughtered. She commands Drogon to fly as she goes over the battlefield, burning the wights. They fly into the air from the impact of Drogon’s flames and squirm on the ground until their movements cease and they continue to lay there as they burn.

 

She looks over at the wall and sees Davos waving his torches around, signaling Daenerys to light the trench. She moves Drogon over to the trench and ignites it with his flames, causing the dead to halt in their tracks. The Unsullied move in through the gates to catch their breath as they prepare to continue fighting. 

  


JON

 

Jon stands on the battlements looking over as the army of the dead stand still ominously, as if waiting for orders. They continue firing the scorpions and blowing the army into pieces. A figure emerges from the treeline, one different from all the rest and on his feet to begin the battle this time. Jon stares at him, many emotions running through him but they all circle back to one, hate. He raises one arm confusing Jon at first, until one wight falls into the trench, and then another, then another. Soon multiple wights are piling on top of each other and putting the fire out, creating a bridge of bodies. Once the first wight crosses the archers get to work on trying to keep them at bay. They charge through at full speed and pile on top of each other to get onto the wall. Daario takes his dragonglass arakh and slices the heads of wights. Others fight as well and attempt to keep the dead off the wall.

  


TYRION

 

Tyrion attempts as best he can to keep the wights away from him but his limited combat experience trumps him as he starts to become swarmed by wights. He becomes pinned down by one, keeping at bay with his axe while the wights dagger remains inches from his face. Someone pulls him off, stabbing and killing the wight. He’s pulled to his feet by his saviour to see that it’s Podrick.

 

Podrick gives him a brief smile before it quickly turns into a look of pain and shock as he coughs up blood from being stabbed from behind. Podrick falls to the ground at Tyrion looks up at the culprit. Anger surges through Tyrion as he cuts down the wight with all the strength he could muster. He continues chopping at the wights skull despite it being dead. He keeps chopping at the thing that killed the boy who was too good for this world.

 

He’s too caught up in his emotions to realize that the wights have stopped attacking and are now waiting back behind the trench. He still continues chopping at the dead wight on the ground.

  


JON

 

Jon breathes heavily as he looks at the dead beyond the trench. It had been difficult but they were winning the early battle. The wildfire worked tremendously and they still had a few more bolts. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked over at Daario breathing heavily. “You alright?” he wheezed.

 

Jon was breathing just as heavily as he as he looked at the field once again while the wights just stood there ominously. He looked over at Tyrion as he angrily chopped a dead wight, he wanted to go over and confirm for him that it was dead but he could see the emotion in his face and decided against it. “I won’t be alright until this is over,” he breathed.

 

Jon’s attention is pulled away when he the Night King still standing there observing the battle from afar. Daario sees him too. “Is that him?” he asked.

 

Jon nodded. “Aye, that’s him.”

 

“Ugly bastard isn’t he?” Daario coughed.

 

Jon simply nodded, not too focused on the conversation he was having with Daario but more on the leader of the White Walkers that stood before him. Out of reach. Jon saw him advance forward to be standing a few feet behind his army as he started raising his arms. Jon was confused and thought it was too early for that to even make a difference, or so he thought.

 

The ground beneath him began to rumble and he was barely able to keep his footing, he looked behind him to see what was causing the ground to violently shake. One house burst into pieces but there was no explosion. Then the house next to it collapsed from one side and was completely destroyed within seconds. Jon then heard noises to his left and saw the same thing happening, this time it collided with the wrong house. The destruction set off unfound wildfire, causing a huge explosion that sent debris flying in all directions, killing some of the soldiers. Once the houses closer to them got closer Jon finally saw what was causing the destruction.

 

Dragons.

 

The dragon skeletons beneath the Red Keep and in the Dragonpit came to life and were destroying houses while the smaller ones went after their soldiers. One dragon with a skull the size of a small farm found its way to the main street and charged forward at full speed towards the gate. Jon and many other men jumped out of the way as the dragon skeleton charged directly through the gate. Allowing the dead entry.

 

Jon’s ears were ringing from his impact with the ground and he would definitely have a new scar on the bridge of his nose. He got up and saw the dead charging through the gates and slaughtering every soldier in their wake. As they began to disperse the dragons continued destroying houses and setting off wildfire caches, killing both wights and living alike.

 

Jon’s frozen in place for a moment before he comes to and draws his sword. As soon as he draws it, it's already set ablaze. He charges down the stairs and chops down every wight in his path.

 

Daenerys remains away from the battle within the walls and only catches the tail end of the wights charging through the gates, she can’t be an active participant in the battle within the walls. She would risk setting off the wildfire and burning half the city. She chooses to stay outside and continue burning as much as she can, which is admittedly not enough.

  


GREY WORM

 

Grey Worm spins his spear and blocks with his shield as wights charge at him from every direction. He ducks as a small dragon skeleton lunges at his head and just narrowly misses him. He hears a scream, from a voice he knows far too well.

 

“Missandei!” he yells. The screams continue as he charges in the direction of them. When he enters the house from which they were coming from he sees three wights ready to cut her to pieces. He throws his spear at one, sticking it to the wall. When the others turn around he draws his dagger and stabs one through the head. The other one was too quick however and gives him a deep cut in his side. He kicks it in the knee, snapping it in two then cuts it with his dagger across the face.

 

He immediately rushes to Missandei and grabs her face between his hands. “Why are you here? You should be in keep,” he yelled. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend what possible reason she could have for being here.

 

“If you were to die then I wouldn’t wait idly by while my death slowly approached. I’d be right here for it.”

 

Grey Worm’s eyes softened and he gave her a quick kiss before pulling her to her feet. “Back to the keep,” he said quickly before pulling her out of the house.

 

Once they exited into the streets it was complete chaos. Soldiers were being cut down left and right and explosions were going off around the city. “Move!” he screamed as he and Missandei quickly ran off towards the Red Keep. Wights charged towards them one after the other and Grey Worm did his best to keep them at bay.

 

They were nearly there when a dragon skeleton, half the size of Drogon appeared in front of them. They quickly moved into a nearby alley and ran as fast as they could. The dragon couldn’t fit through so in his attempt to make his way through the house on the left side of the alley wildfire was set off. Missandei and Grey Worm quickly moved away as the rubble fell over top of them.

 

Grey Worm quickly moved to block it and in the process broke his shield in half. Missandei had fallen off her feet and he quickly moved to get her back up and they proceeded to continue their long sprint back to the Red Keep.

  


TYRION

 

Tyrion was now in the streets doing what he should absolutely not be doing. Fighting. He stayed low to the ground and out of the way of most of the fighting, but found himself having to swing his axe every now and then. When he had to run into the streets he saw a dragon the size of Drogon cornering a large group of soldiers. He considered turning the other way but something stopped him. _I’m a Lannister._ The lion doesn’t run from the dragon.

 

He ran at full speed but as quietly as he could in the direction of the dragon, raised his hand as high as he could and swung down at full force. His dragonglass axe connected with the foot of the dragon and he collapsed to the ground in a pile of bones.

 

The men looked at Tyrion in shock and were frozen in place. “What? Never seen a dwarf slay a dragon before? We have a war to win! Move!” he yelled.

 

The men snapped out of their daze and rejoined the battle.

  


JAIME

 

Jaime was stuck in the middle of a horde of wights crowding him and swinging at him. His sword was never as good as he used to be but he was still as swift. Gracefully maneuvering around attacks and slicing when the opportunity presented itself.

 

But there were simply too many and he eventually found himself swarmed and overwhelmed by the amount of wights attacking him. He got sliced in the arm, then the knee as he struggled to stand.

 

One wight’s head was hacked right off it’s body as a large figure, covered in blood and dirt sliced through the bunch of them. Brienne lifted Jaime to his feet with one hand while the other sliced away at the wights. They stood back to back as they sliced at the wights surrounding them. Oathkeeper and Widow’s Wail. Brienne and Jaime. Two halves of the same sword. 

  


DAVOS

 

When Viserion was killed in Winterfell, Davos never expected he’d be fighting anymore dragons. Let alone this many. Davos fought when he had to but for the most part elected to aid the people mid-battle. Another explosion went off as another house was destroyed. Large pieces of building flew in all directions and crushed soldiers left and right. Davos ran past many who were already killed and onto those who weren’t. One had his leg completely crushed as Davos attempted desperately to move the cement covering his lower half.

 

Once it was high enough Davos quickly pulled him out and into a nearby doorway of a house where he could hide out. “You’ve done all ye can, stay here until the battle’s over.”

 

The soldier gave a quick nod and Davos moved back out of the house to continue on his hopeless errand of helping everyone he could find.

  


JON

 

With a tight hold on Sansa’s arm he runs through the streets of King’s Landing, slicing any wight that comes remotely near. Ghost followed behind, bit out the legs of a wight before Jon either sliced them in half or stabbed them and collapsed them to the ground.

 

He hears a growl that isn’t Ghost’s and he sees Arya fighting with Nymeria as she runs towards Jon and Sansa. She stabs a wight through the head while Jon’s distracted by her. “Move!” she yelled. They all started running in the same direction as more wights continued to come after them. Jon, Arya, and even Sansa had to do some fighting.

 

They came to a point that was absolutely filled with wights in every direction. There were too many for them to get through, they raised their weapons as their direwolves growled at the surrounding wights beside them. All three Starks fought beside each other, hacking, cutting, stabbing. Sansa did what she could while Jon and Arya did most of the work. 

 

There were so many, the buildings crumbled around them as more explosions went off. A small dragon lunged towards Arya, biting down on her arm as she screamed in pain. Jon whipped around, hacking the dragon off of her. A wight took Arya’s weakened state as an opportunity to stab her through the gut. She held tight as she struggled for breath. Nymeria’s rage took over as she fought sloppily, diving into the group of wights. Not able to kill any due to lack of dragonglass, she was hacked to pieces and it was over quickly.

 

Jon tried to hold Arya but the wights continued to charge and he had to let go in order to continue fighting. Arya being the stubborn girl she’s always been, rose to her feet to continue fighting. She wasn’t the swift, graceful warrior Jon knew her to be. Her movements were sloppier and she barely managed to block incoming attacks. One she didn’t. This time she was stabbed twice in the stomach, much deeper than before.

 

Jon’s eyes blazed as he hit the wight with such force that his when he shattered his bones went directly through the skulls of other foot soldiers of the army. Jon grabbed Arya as her eyes were just barely open and pulled her away into a nearby house.

 

He and Sansa bolted the door and laid her down on against the wall. “Hey, hey, hey. Arya, it’s alright, it’s me. It’s Jon. Just look at me, don’t close your eyes.” He was barely able to speak at all. All his words cracked under his sobs as he let loose a waterfall of tears.

 

“Jon,” Sansa sobbed. “Jon she’s not going to-”

 

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!” Jon attempted to look angry at Sansa but he was just as tearful as she. 

 

He looked back at Arya as she handed him her dagger. “Jon, carve that ugly bastard would you,” she was barely able to speak as she gargled up blood which Jon was quick to wipe away.

 

He placed his forehead against hers and Sansa came down to kneel beside them and held her sister’s hand in hers. “You always treated me like a Stark. Like I was your real brother.”

 

Arya placed her hand on his cheek and pulled him away to look into his eyes. “You are and always will be my brother.” Jon pressed his eyes shut to try and halt the tears that refused to cease.

 

She looked at her sister Sansa as her tunic became stained with the tears falling out of her eyes. “When you return to Winterfell, let me rest with my family.”

 

Sansa tried to utter words but they all ceased as she saw her sisters pale wight face. All she could do was hold her close and sob into her shirt. Arya lightly stroked her back as she continued crying. Eventually her strokes stopped and her hand fell from her back and landed on the wooden floor. She hesitantly looked up and was met with Arya’s blank and lifeless stare.

 

Jon looked up and saw Arya as well. “Arya, Arya wake up. Your not done yet, you still have so much to do.” Jon lightly shook her but she didn’t move an inch. “Arya please!” he screamed this time. Once again she didn’t respond.

 

Sansa pulled him into a tight embrace as they both sobbed into each other’s shoulders. Their moment was interrupted when a wight rushed upstairs and into the room. Before Sansa could react Jon gripped his sword so tight she was sure it was going to snap as he swung it at the wight. He swung his sword so hard it went halfway through the stone wall. He removed it and when he looked back at her she saw a mix of pure rage and soul crushing sadness.

 

He looked down at Arya’s dagger in his hand as he squeezed it tightly. “I’ll kill him,” he muttered under his breath. “I’ll rip out that dragonglass heart of his and show it to him. Let him live just long enough to know he fucking lost!” He grabbed Sansa by the arm so they could head to the Red Keep. He took one last look at Arya and let one final tear go before turning away. He was going to kill the Night King, nobody else.

 

When they come outside the chaos hasn’t subdued whatsoever. Ghost immediately ran to his side after biting off all the limbs of a wight and ran with him back to the castle. As they ran he continued to tear through any wight that came near. But he was different now. He was filled with rage and fire. The wolf has gone to sleep and now the dragon has come out to play. Or maybe they’re now one and the same. Ghost seems to mimic his anger. He crushes bones in his teeth instead of tearing them off and Jon shatters entire bodies with the swing of his sword.

 

Sansa continues to cover his back but with less proficiency than before. While Jon’s pain had morphed into anger, her pain remained as pain and sadness. She was sloppy and was having trouble finding reason to fight. They couldn’t possibly win this fight, it’s over.

 

They hear the roar of a dragon as they look to the Red Keep and see Drogon landing on the roof. Daenerys most likely got tired of doing nothing and has decided to join the fight on the ground with her sword. Jon hoped that he could get to her before she did that.

 

He ran faster and up the steps where he sees Daario is already there fighting with his Second Sons. “Get her inside!” he screamed as Daario repeated the orders to one of his men. He grabbed Sansa by the arm and rushed her inside. “Why is Daenerys here?” he asked while cutting away at the wights.

 

“I don’t know!” he said as he threw his knife into the skull of a wight coming at Jon from behind.

 

Grey Worm came from inside and began aiding them in defending the line. As soon as Daenerys landed it was as if every wight in the city began focusing on the Red Keep. And he knew why. _Like hell I’m letting you take anything more away from me._ He, Daario, and Grey Worm, along with Unsullied and Second Sons held the wights off as they continued to attempt to get by and into the Red Keep.

 

The door behind them opened and out came Tyrion Lannister, covered in blood and dust. “Jon, we need you!” Tyrion yelled.

 

“He’s a bit occupied at the moment,” Daario responded.

 

“It’s Daenerys,” this grabbed Jon’s attention as he turned his attention to Tyrion. “The baby’s coming.”

  


JON

 

Without further contemplation Jon, Daario, and Grey Worm all run into the keep while the men are left to deal with the dead outside. Tyrion immediately barricades the door and turns to Jon who looks like he’s about to rip the bricks out of the wall. “How many moon turns is she?” he asked.

 

“Seven,” everyone was equally confused. Pregnancies are supposed to take up to nine moon turns and yet this one ended at seven.

 

“You must be wrong, it’s not possible,” Jon breathed.

 

“I’ve seen my sister give birth to three children and Daenerys is exhibiting the exact same symptoms she did,” Tyrion thought it insane at first but after everything Daenerys told her about what she was feeling he knew it had to be true. “My only question is the same as all of yours. How?”

 

Jon’s pacing came to an abrupt stop as he seemed to realize what was happening. “The Night King, he must’ve sped up Robb’s growth. I don’t know how but he did,” Jon abruptly slammed his sword into the wall, completely knocking a brick clean out.

 

“Come, I’ll bring you to her,” as they began to make their way the doors behind them started to move inwards then out. The men outside had been killed and now the wights were attempting to break down the door.

 

Tyrion quickly moves through an archway and grabs a torch, “Everybody through here.”

 

The three men quickly came through as the door burst open and the dead ran through. As soon as they did, Tyrion threw down the torch into the door and green flames blocked the dead in their path.

 

They all watched for a few seconds before they each turned around and bolted in the opposite direction. They ran into the throne room where Missandei was waiting for them. “Where is she?” Jon demanded. Missandei immediately grabbed him by the arm and guided him through a hall to some bedchambers where they already found Sansa, Jaime, and Brienne. Both Sansa and Jaime seemed to be attempting to help Daenerys as she screamed in pain.

 

Jon immediately moves to Daenerys’ side and turns her to look at him. “Hey, hey I’m here.”

 

Relief seemed to flow through Daenerys which was quickly replaced by fear. “Jon, please don’t let him get to Robb.”

 

“He won’t, I promise.”

 

He turned to all the men in the room. “Don’t let any of those things in here, understand?”

 

They all simultaneously nodded. “Jon,” Daenerys whispered. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

 

Jon gave a quick nod and then left the room, followed by Daario. “What are you going to do?” he asked.

 

Jon took a deep breath. “Something stupid,” he said as he walked off in the direction of the throne room to await the Night King’s arrival, leaving Daenerys to be defended by who was left in there.

 

Jon walked through the halls, the sounds of explosions, roars, and swords clashing outside were all drowned out by the sound of his heartbeat ringing in his ears. A heartbeat that he promised himself will never stop again. He walked into the throne room where he got another look at the great iron throne. Forged by the thousand swords of Aegon’s fallen enemies. Where his ancestors sat before him. From Aegon the Conqueror to the Mad King Aerys. From Robert the Usurper to the Boy King Tommen. The first Queen of Westeros Cersei. And now Daenerys Targaryen. Jon drew his sword, and sat down. And he waited for the Night King to arrive.

 

He sat and waited, eyes locked on the door until it opened. Finally the door opened and he stepped through. The Night King’s icy blue eyes locked with Jon’s furious grey eyes. The Night King drew his sword as its sound wrung throughout the hall. Jon ignited his sword and stepped down the steps, slowly just like the Night King. While Jon’s face held a scowl that would send most men to cower in the corner. The Night King’s face remained emotionless and empty as he held his sword in his hand.

 

Jon made the first move, swinging his sword as ice and fire clashed.

  


BRAN

 

Bran sat over the balcony looking over the battle. It was only a matter of time before it ended, everything was falling into place. There was only one thing he needed to do. The roof above the throne room rumbled and he knew exactly what was up there. His eyes rolled into the back of his eyes as he began to warg. The eyes of a great beast turned white before returning to normal. Bran got used to the new body before expanding his giant wings and flying over King’s Landing, casting a giant shadow. He emerged on the roof of the Red Keep where he found the biggest dragon of them all attempting to tear open the roof where Jon Snow and the Night King were currently fighting.

 

When Bran roared in Drogon’s body it grabbed the attention of the giant dragon clawing its way into the roof. The undead dragon was twice the size of Drogon and Bran knew exactly who it was. Balerion. Drogon climbed onto the room and stared off with Balerion. 

 

Balerion was the first to charge forward, Drogon moved out of the way with his wings. Balerion was unable to fly with him being only a skeleton. Drogon breathed fire onto Balerion and continued spewing it. The fire melted the roof and allowed the snow that was coming down to now fall into the throne room through the roof. While Drogon continued spewing fire down, Balerion charged forward through the flames and lunged at Drogon biting down on his wing and tearing it nearly in half. Drogon fell to the roof as he screeched and Bran struggled to gain control. Drogon rose from his lying position and stood once more, eyeing Balerion. Drogon charged forward at full strength which Bran didn’t tell him to do. It didn’t feel as if Bran was controlling Drogon but more working with him. Drogon charged forward, refusing to let the Night King get his brother. Drogon latched onto Balerion and forcefully dragged him to the edge of the roof, pulling him down the full length to the ground, and slamming him causing him to shatter into pieces. The fall officially put an end to Drogon’s fight as he struggled to find his footing and found somewhere along the cliffside to hideout and recover from his injuries.

  


JAIME

 

Jaime continued helping Daenerys to birth, telling her how to breath. His task was interrupted when the hands appeared on the windows. Jaime realised the wights had scaled the side of the keep and were now attempting to enter. “Missandei, help her,” he said as he drew his sword and fought to keep the wights at bay. 

 

The wights piled in through the windows and all the fighters did their best to keep them away from the Queen. Even Tyrion took his axe and fought with them all. He finished with the wights in his window and looked over at Brienne. He saw that a wight had made its way through and was now approaching her from behind, unbeknownst to her. He quickly moved over to her, before he could cut the wight it immediately turned around and stabbed him through the heart.

 

Brienne heard it and turned around. “No!” she screamed, cutting the wight before grabbing Jaime and holding him in her arms. Jaime attempted to speak but couldn’t muster the strength to speak. He simply grabbed his sword and handed it to her, closing her palm around it. He nodded and slowly let himself drift off. Allowed himself to go the way he wanted to, in the arms of the woman he loved.

  


JON

 

The Night King gripped his sword with two hands and swung at Jon with such force that it knocked him all the way back to the stairs. The fight had been grueling. The Night King had been much faster than Jon had anticipated and any attack Jon had done seemed to do nothing to him at all. Jon’s vision was blurry but focused when the Night King came into sight. Raising his sword and swinging it down, Jon had just enough time to move out of the way as he watched the Night King break the stairs with his sword. Jon ran up the stairs to where the ladies of the court would stand during a trial to attempt to catch his breath. The Night King made no rush towards him and walked as slowly as he usually did towards him.

 

He stalked up the stairs and swung at Jon which he quickly ducked. His sword destroyed the torch beside Jon’s head and the sparks flew everywhere. Jon barely deflected all the attacks the Night King sent his way as Jon then hopped out an archway and back to the floor in the hall. 

 

The Night King merely stepped out on the ledge and fell to the ground, landing on his feet. Once again slowly stalking towards Jon. Jon kept his sword at the ready and swung again, the Night King ducked under it and swung to cut off Jon’s head. Jon was too slow and he was going to kill him. Lucky for him the snow that was now falling into the room caused Jon to lose his footing and send him to the ground ungracefully. He quickly rolled away from the Night King as he swung at the ground.

 

Jon rubbed the blood off his face that was dripping from a new cut on his jaw. He looked down at his blood and back to the Night King wondering what colour his blood is, wondering how he’d react when he saw it for the first time.

 

The ceiling crumbled and fell as some debris fell onto the Night King’s arm, causing him to lose his grip on his sword. Jon took the opportunity to charge him. The Night King went to smack Jon which Jon easily ducked and stabbed the Night King through the chest. He took out his legs and then shoved his sword into the ground with the Night King still attached. Jon whipped out his dagger and shoved it into his chest and began to carve. All the pain, all the lives lost. Edd, Tormund, Viserion, Theon, Jorah, Melisandre… Arya. And now he wanted to take Daenerys and Robb away from him. He wanted to take everything away from him. And Jon wouldn’t let that happened. They were all he had left and he refused to let anything take them away from him, no matter the cost.

 

 He felt a sharp pain in the left side of his gut and saw that the Night King had taken an ice dagger from his belt and stabbed him. Jon fought through the pain and continued to carve out his heart. The Night King’s chest emitted a light as Jon got closer to his goal. 

 

He felt the sharp pain again and this time he decided to twist it in his side. Jon screamed in anger and in pain as he worked harder and harder to remove the dragonglass from his chest.

 

He felt it once more and that was all he could physically take. He tried to continue but the strain was too much and Jon became too weak to continue as he was easily shoved off him. He removed Longclaw from his chest and rose to his feet as Jon shuffled back to the stairs of the throne, holding his side. The Night King aimed Longclaw at Jon chest. 

 

He rose the sword and prepared to send it down. “Wait!” the familiar voice made Jon whip his head around to who he saw was there. Daenerys was standing there, clearly using all the strength she could muster and she held a little bundle in her arms. Her eyes were pouring tears as she looked at Jon who was sitting in a puddle of his own blood and then back to the Night King. “You can have him,” she just barely whispered.

 

“Daenerys no!” Jon yelled which only made him wince at the pain he was feeling. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She was going to give their son to this monster.

 

“Our son won’t survive no matter what Jon,” she sobbed. “At least… at least if I give him up. I won’t lose you too.”

 

Jon looked back at the Night King as he looked at him expectantly. Jon used all the strength he had and walked to Daenerys where she held their son. He looked down at him, his eyes were closed and he was asleep, his hand up at his mouth.

 

Jon sniffled as he looked down at him and caressed his forehead, giving it a kiss. “I love you so much,” he then looked to Daenerys and placed his forehead against hers. “Are you sure?” she didn’t answer but he knew that she had to. She handed him their bundle as she sobbed, watching him limp towards the Night King.

 

Jon’s arms shook as he held the bundle in his arms. "I give you him," he sobbed as he barely managed to speak. "And you leave." The Night King held out his hand and Jon, hesitating at first, gripped the Night King's forearm and formed a truce bond. Jon handed him Robb and the Night King turned around and left, bringing his army with him. Daenerys stumbled to his side as they both collapsed to the ground and held each other as they cried for the son she longed for so long, the son they both thought they'd never have. He was here, and then he was gone.

  



	10. Episode 10: A Dream of Spring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Battle of the Dawn

SANSA

 

The pyres were lined outside the city walls, covered with the bodies of the lives lost. The one body absent, Arya, was not brought forward to funeral. Once Sansa returned to the North she would bury Arya where she belonged. Daenerys had not left her chambers since the day she gave away her son. When Jon emerged today his hair was unkempt and his beard longer than usual.

 

He attempted to look strong but all Sansa saw was the pain in his eyes. He feels he failed his family, that it was his fault. He put on his strongest voice when he spoke. “We are here to say goodbye to our brothers… and sisters,” his voice cracked on the last two words. “To all those who fell, and died for us. So we could be here today. Their names will never be woven into the tapestry of time, but we’ll remember them. It is our duty to keep them alive in our memory and always remember them, all of them.” The last three words were just barely a whisper but Sansa heard them and she knew what he meant.

 

They walked forward with the torches and ignited the pyres, burning the bodies. Sansa cried as she watched evidence of their failure before them. Jon didn’t stay for them to burn, he immediately left directly back to his chambers and to Daenerys.

 

Sansa had walked by their chambers multiple times over the past few days and heard distinct words spoken by the Queen. “I’m so sorry,” she would sob. “I’m a monster.” She would always hear her brother shushing her and telling her it’s okay. They were both broken and needed each other desperately.

 

While the two mourned for their lost child Sansa spent most days in her chambers mourning her lost sister. Remembering all the times that they didn’t get along. She wished she could take back those times and tell her how much she loved her and cherished her as her sister.

 

With Jon locked away in his chambers and nobody else to talk to she turned to her other sibling. Or rather who used to be her other sibling Bran. She entered his chambers where she found him sitting by a hearth and staring into the fire. Sansa sat by him and he seemed to take no notice of her or just simply didn’t care for her presence. “Are they going to stay gone?” Sansa asked.

 

“They won’t return for centuries and when they do, I will be sure the people then no what they’re there for and they give it up willingly.” Sansa nodded as she stared back into the flames of the hearth. “It’s strange. I don’t really feel anything anymore.”

 

“I know, you’ve told me,” Sansa whispered.

 

“That’s not the strange part, the strange part is that I miss her.”

 

Sansa looked over at Bran and she couldn’t help but raise to her feet and draw him in for a hug and sob into his shoulder. For her lost sibling, for her lost nephew, for everyone she’s lost along the way.

  
  


TYRION

 

“So off you go I guess,” Tyrion said as he walked with Bronn to the gates.

 

“You gave me a castle, I’m going to live in the castle.”

 

“Yes, I’m sure you will enjoy life at the Twins. I’m sure there’s some blood stains you still need to wash out,” Tyrion’s attempt at a joke fell flat by the tone of his voice. He was in no joking mood after everything.

 

Bronn recognized this and bent down to his height. “How are you feelin’?” He asked. Tyrion remained silent but his face showed everything he was feeling. Bronn took a deep breath before he continued. “Believe it or not I’ve lost people that I gave a shit about, Pod and Jaime died so you could be here. They didn’t die for nothin’.”

 

Tyrion gave a small nod in thanks to him. “Come on,” Bronn said as he pulled him in. They gave each other a friendly hug goodbye before Bronn mounted his horse. “Feel free to pay me a visit anytime.”

 

Bronn rode off to his new life in the Riverlands.

 

As Tyrion walked through the streets King’s Landing he saw those that were still alive being tended to. Mens’ legs were sewed off and others sat by speaking to themselves as if they’d snapped and gone mad. Tyrion knew it wasn’t the right time but he knew there was one person they needed.

 

As soon as he made it to the door he could hear the wailing coming from inside. He held up his fist and hesitated for a moment before he placed three knocks on the door.

 

After a moment Jon Snow came to the door. “What do you want Tyrion,” he said angrily.

 

Tyrion took a moment before composing himself and putting what he was going to say together in his head. “The people need their Queen, they’re suffering and-“

 

“Do you really expect her to do anything right now? After everything that’s happened to her!”

 

He looked like he was about to come out and slam Tyrion’s head into the wall when a hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Jon, it’s alright,” he could hear how weak his Queen’s voice was. Her voice cracked on every word and when she emerged from behind Jon it was an even worse sight. Her clothes hadn’t changed since that day, her eyes were baggy underneath likely due to lack of sleep and her hair was a jumbled mess.

 

“Your grace perhaps I was wrong. Maybe you should take a little more time.”

 

“No Tyrion, the people need me.”

 

She reentered the room to prepare to speak before her people and Jon followed in behind her.

  
  


DAENERYS

 

She didn’t bother braiding her hair, just untangled it and allowed to flow freely. “Dany you shouldn’t do this if you’re not ready,” Jon said as she brushed out her hair.

 

“I need to address my people.”

 

She moved towards the door before Jon stopped her by placing an arm in the way. “I want you to be sure you’re ready. Look me in the eyes and tell me if you can do this.”

 

She lightly grabbed his face and turned it to meet her eyes. “I’m ready.”

 

Jon followed her out of the room and out into the halls.

 

When they arrived in the throne room it was still snowing inside. The roof was still destroyed and rubble remained scattered around the great hall. When she saw the throne she stopped and slowly stepped towards it.

 

She’s been here before, many years ago. She remembered the exact scene. Snow littering the room and a single throne sitting alone on the top of the stairs. And then she heard the roar of her dragons, light and high at the time but now it was strong and earth shattering. Drogon climbed through the roof, landing at her side as they both stared at the throne.

 

The thing that she’s sacrificed so much to obtain sits right in front of her as she walks up the stairs. She reaches out, and pulls back. This fancy chair could never fill the void left in her soul, the endless hole sucking away any joy she could possibly hope to obtain in her life. She stepped away and turned around to stare once again at the throne as Jon approached and stood by her side.

 

A look passed between the two as they simultaneously agreed. “Dracarys,” they both said at the same time. The flames built up in Drogon’s mouth as he let out an angry roar while he spewed fire over the throne. It melted before their very eyes as it turned into nothing more than a puddle with a few more remains of what was once a few swords. 

 

They turned and saw the people of which Daenerys was to meet, the group that could attend was so small that they all fit into the hall. Missandei joined the Queen at her side to translate for her but Daenerys dismissed her, not wanting to put her to work after everything they’d just experienced. She took a deep breath as Jon took her hand in his. “You have all served me loyally, titled me your Queen, your Khaleesi.”

 

She struggled to speak as Jon squeezed her hand tighter and looked into her eyes. “I’m with you every step of the way,” he whispered just loud enough that only she could hear.

 

She took a deep breath. “But I am no Queen, I have ruled and I have failed. I am meant to win and not to rule over what has been won. Which is why I will not. I came to break the wheel and I will not become a part of that wheel in the process. Leaders will be chosen based on competence, not a birthright.”

 

The normally stoic faces of the Unsullied showed confusion and the Dothraki were not cheering at her speech as they usually did, not that this speech was particularly meant to be cheered for. Tyrion stepped forward to speak solely to her. “The city is in disarray and the people are beginning to return to Westeros from the Iron Islands, how are they to be led if they have no one to lead them? Who’s hands will the kingdom be left in?”

 

“Yours,” Daenerys replied quickly which shocked Tyrion. “You will select people to aid you in the running of the kingdom, you will not run it yourself.”

 

Tyrion still looked at her in confusion but gave a slight nod, he removed his Hand of the Queen pin. “I suppose I won’t require this anymore,” he said as he attempted to offer it to her with his hand open.

 

She placed her hand on his fingers and closed it around the pin. “It is yours.”

 

Jon stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll miss you old friend.”

 

Tyrion gave the hand on his shoulder a light pat. “I’ll miss you to your grace.”

 

“Not anymore,” he answered.

 

~~~~~~

 

Daenerys was in her room packing away her possessions whilst Jon did the same. For once she was going somewhere without the goal of fighting, burning people alive, or a giant army behind her. It was just Ghost and Jon, spare a small crew.

 

It didn’t matter where she was going, as long as it was far away from here. This city, this throne has brought nothing but pain and misery and she will have no part of it any longer.

 

A knock sounded behind her and when she looked behind her Jon had already answered the door as Daario strolled in. “May I speak with her?” It wasn’t a real question, he was going to speak with her no matter what Jon said. But it didn’t matter because Jon nodded and allowed them a moment alone.

 

They were silent and Daario seemed to still be attempting to process the news. Finally he found his tongue and spoke. “So… this is it,” he said.

 

Daenerys gave a slight nod. “Yes I suppose it is,” she mumbled. “What will you do?”

 

Daario bit down on his tongue and looked out the window as he thought about what he would do now. “Well, I suppose the Golden Company can’t run itself. Someone has to take over.”

 

Daenerys gave him a slight smile, it makes sense that he would continue to be a sellsword. Daario wasn’t the type to settle down and leave everything he’s done behind. She took a few steps towards him and gave him a friendly hug. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

 

Daario’s hand ran up and down her back, it was slightly too intimate for Daenerys’ liking but she allowed it as long as he didn’t overstep. “It was my pleasure,” he mumbled.

 

As they pulled away he smiled down at her. “I’ll miss you,” he said.

 

“I will miss your presence as well.”

 

He looked behind him at the door and then back to her. “Jon’s a good man, don’t let that one get away from you.”

 

Daenerys breathed out a small laugh. “Yes, I’ll try.”

 

Jon waited for her outside by the stone steps that led to the harbour where they were also awaited by Missandei, Grey Worm, Sansa, and Bran. Once they arrived they stood before them all, bags in hand. Daenerys made her way to Grey Worm and Missandei first, noticing that they both held sacks and they were in front of a ship being prepared by Unsullied. She looked back at them and smiled. “Where will you be going?”

 

She smiled to Grey Worm and he returned with one of his rather rare smiles. “The original plan was for us to sail to Naath, however unfortunately Grey Worm would die soon due to the butterflies. We will return to Meereen.” Missandei said.

 

Daenerys smiled and gave them both parting hugs and Jon came forward, offering Missandei a hug and Grey Worm and handshake. “Take care, both of you,” he said.

 

“You as well Jon Snow,” Grey Worm replied.

 

Jon moved over to his siblings and they both seemed to have somber expressions, which was surprising to see on Bran’s face. “When will the funeral be?” Jon asked. His voice was laced with grief and Daenerys wanted to do nothing more then hold him close for the rest of her days until he was the happy man she got a glimpse of on the boat to White Harbor.

 

_ White Harbor.  _ It feels so long since they departed for the port. She missed that boat, she missed when everything seemed so simple, just him and her. When they’d lock themselves away in her chambers and spend hours just speaking to each other. Or when they would join the rest of the crew for breakfast but they would practically only speak to one another. The memory the most distinct was the one night he got drunk and sang songs with his northern crew. That time on the boat showed her what simple life could be like, no throne, no armies. Just her and the people closest to her, making the most out of everything they had.

 

“We’ll have her funeral in a moonturn hopefully,” Sansa responded. Jon nodded as he struggled to keep his tears at bay. “Where are you two going.”

 

The question made her realize that she had absolutely no idea where they were going. All she could think about was the journey, not the destination. When she looked to Jon he smiled to himself before he answered. “Braavos,” he said. “I think there’s a particular house I’m interested in.”

 

Daenerys knew exactly what house she was talking about, the fact that he remembered nearly made her grab a hold of him right there and never let go.

 

He pulled his sister in a tight hug. “I’ll send a raven as soon as I can,” he mumbled against her shoulder.

 

He pulled back and placed a kiss on her forehead and stroked her hair back.

 

He then moved away and kneeled down in front of Bran. “Have you considered what we talked about?” Jon asked. Daenerys was confused by this, what did they talk about behind closed doors.

 

“Yes I have,” Bran responded with slightly more expression than usual. “I will do everything I can to see if it’s possible.”

 

Jon gave his brother a grateful grin and gave him a light hug which Bran reciprocated.

 

“I suppose this is farewell, we’ll visit once we’ve settled in,” Jon spoke to everyone. “Come Ghost.”

 

They started walking towards the boat before they heard the familiar voice behind them. “Jon wait!” Jon turned and saw Sam running as best he could with Gilly in tow. Sam stopped directly in front of him to catch his breath as Gilly patted him on the back.

 

Seeing as Gilly wasn’t wheezing he decided to give her the first hug, noticing a bump in her stomach. When Jon pulled back and looked down at her stomach she looked away, as if it was insensitive to be pregnant. But Jon couldn’t be happier for his friend. Once Sam looked up Jon hugged him so tight he thought his eyes might pop out of his skull.

 

When they pulled away Sam looked at Jon sympathetically and Jon did his best to smile even if he was dying on the inside. “I’m really happy for you Sam.”

 

Sam gave him a slight smile but his eyes showed the hurt for him. “You were the best friend I ever had,” Sam said. “Be sure to visit your godchild soon.”

 

“Of course,” he looked at Gilly now. “Have you thought of names?”

 

They both looked at each other and smiled. “If it’s a boy, we want to name him Jon.”

 

Even with the internal pain Jon was clearly experiencing he grinned from ear to ear and hugged his friend even tighter. “I’ll be sure to be a good uncle to little Jon.”

 

When they released they headed towards the boat. Drogon was too injured to join them just yet but he would be able to cross the Narrow Sea when they returned for Arya Stark’s burial. Ghost was already waiting for them on the bow of the ship. When they got closer they saw that Ghost was missing an ear and had cuts all over but was still standing strong.

 

Jon knelt down and pet Ghost lovingly before rising and moving to Daenerys who was standing on the rail and staring out at the sea ahead. She was leaving behind the Seven Kingdoms in favour of a simpler life. And she felt good about it. Her attention turned away from the water when his hand grasped hers and he looked at her questioningly. “Are you ready?” he asked.

 

She gave him a tight smile and embraced him, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

 

The ship began moving away from the harbour and farther and farther away from King’s Landing and towards home.

  
  


TYRION

 

It was months after the war had ended. King’s Landing was returning to its long former glory under the rule of a council of people interested in helping the people and not themselves. At the table sat Sansa Stark, Tyrion Lannister, Davos Seaworth, and Brienne of Tarth. They were small now but there was and always will be room for more.

 

The day of the funeral Tyrion had decided that he wished to welcome Jon and Daenerys back to aid in the rule of the realm but they departed the moment the funeral was over and Jon Snow had paid his respects. Drogon had flown across the Narrow Sea right towards them as soon as he was able to. Sansa had kept in regular contact with Jon via raven and yet refused to share information with the rest of them which Tyrion had reluctantly agreed to. After everything they’d sacrificed and everything they’d lost for the people they fought for, Tyrion could give them this.

 

Tyrion had offered to allow Bran a seat at the council but he had declined and elected to stay in the North where he must prepare. He offered now further explanation on the subject.

 

Another day had passed on and the city was halfway rebuilt. Some of the brothels had returned to the city but Tyrion had paid them no mind. Instead he focused on the betterment of the city and its people. Today in the councilroom sat only him and Brienne of Tarth, the commander of the city guard. The city watch was a pathetic excuse for city defense and had been made a more dignified operation. Meaning the book of the great knights of the Kingsguard was to be brought to the library to be studied by the children in their classes of history.

 

Tyrion found Brienne focused on a rather short page of a certain knight, Ser Jaime Lannister. She looked up when Tyrion placed a quill and ink beside her. “I believe there are some achievements that have not been included,” Tyrion said.

 

They sat together, both taking turns with the quill to write. They had filled a second page in his honour by the end of the hour of the great unacknowledged achievements of one of the greatest swordsman the realm had ever seen.

 

_ Captured in the field at the Whispering Wood: _

_ Set free by Lady Catelyn Stark in return for an oath to find and return her two daughters: _

_ Lured the Unsullied into attacking Casterly Rock, sacrificing his childhood home in service of a greater strategy: _ _   
_ _ Outwitted the Targaryen forces to seize Highgarden: _

_ Fought at the Battle of the Goldroad bravely, narrowly escaping death by dragonfire: _

_ Defended Winterfell in the Battle of Ice and Fire, commanding the Vale forces: _

_ Pledged himself to Queen Daenerys I in service of her Queensguard: _

_ Killed at the Battle of the Dawn defending his Queen. _

 

Once the ink had dried they went off to the library to gift the book to the now fully trained maester Samwell Tarly.

 

Tyrion sipped his wine in the great gardens and looked off at Blackwater Bay and towards the Narrow Sea and he wondered what his Queen was doing now, and if she was happy. If she was able to find that across the Narrow Sea unlike here. She deserved to find that after all the pain he had suffered and Tyrion hoped that when he saw her again one day that he’d find her unable to stop grinning from ear to ear. 

  
  


THE WONDERFUL LITTLE GIRL

 

She ran through the streets of the city, ducking under people and maneuvering her way through the crowd. She was small so she could do that. Everywhere she went everyone seemed to become happier and smile no matter how they originally looked before her arrival. Quarreling lovers would take a break from their bickering to smile towards her and wave.

 

She ran down the stairs, two at a time, much to the protest of her mother. Once she reached the bottom she darted inside a shop where Kaysie was waiting behind the counter for her. The little girl just barely peeked over the counter which caused Kaysie to smile. 

 

“Are they ready?” The little girl asked in her tiny voice.

 

“Yes of course,” the older woman smiled. She turned around and handed her which she could strap over her back. “Here are your lemon cakes.”

 

The little girl’s smile was so famously bright that it could melt the snows of the Lands of Always Winter. “How much must I pay you?” she asked.

 

“Oh no need. Just tell your mother and father to have dinner with me and my husband again soon. We would love to have their company once more.”

 

It seemed impossible but the little girl’s smile just got brighter as she ran out the door almost running directly into someone on the way out. Though that person wouldn’t be mad, nobody could ever be mad at the little girl. “Oh, careful running through the streets Ar-” but she was already too far away to hear Kaysie and she smiled to herself and the girl’s seemingly limitless energy.

 

The little girl sprinted down the streets and back to her home where she whipped over the door and immediately brought her lemon cakes to the kitchen, placing the bag on the counter. She saw the familiar glint of steel in the corner of her eye but chose to ignore it.

 

As she went to exit the room, like usual, she just couldn’t help herself and she grabbed the dagger and started swinging it around. She usually pretended to be the knights that her father told her about in his late night stories. She would go through the whole roster and today she was Ser Jaime Lannister, the Golden Lion. But when she heard the door open she quickly hid the dagger behind her back.

 

When she saw it was her father she breathed a sigh of relief seeing as he was much less strict than her mother. “Aryanna?” her father said. His eyes narrowing suspiciously as he slowly stepped towards her. The scars on his eyes had faded over time and his eyes showed wrinkles at the sides now. “What are you hiding behind your back?” her father asked even though he already knew.

 

“Nothing,” Aryanna giggled.

 

Her father side-stepped to one side which caused her to run to the opposite side which was exactly what he wanted. He lifted her into his arms and tickled Aryanna causing her to laugh uncontrollably and drop the dagger to the ground.

 

“What did I tell you about playing with my dagger,” her father said a little more serious.

 

Her smile faded slightly but was still bright as ever. “I could hurt myself.”   
  


“That’s right,” he said as he set her down. “Your mother saw how you were descending the steps today and chose to yell at me. Now what did she tell you?”

 

Aryanna looked down embarrassed. “Only take one step at a time.”

 

“That’s right,” her father said as he crossed his arms. “And what did I tell you?”

 

She looked up at him and smiled. “Next time don’t let mother see.”

 

Her father smiled as he lifted her onto his shoulders, she loved it when he did that. She loved pretending she was a dragon rider and it was especially fun whenever he would run. “Did you get the lemon cakes for your aunt?”

 

“Aye father,” she said.

 

“Your mother won’t be happy but you can have one before tomorrow.”

 

Aryanna shook excitedly as her father reached into the sack and pulled out a lemon cake, handing it to her she quickly devoured it.

 

“Jon!” Her mother’s voice boomed through the house when the door closed behind her and she came into the kitchen. She originally looked mad but when she saw the scene before her smile was brighter than Aryanna’s somehow. “What do we have here?”

 

“Nothing,” Jon and Aryanna said in unison.

 

Her mother shook her head and giggled. “Did you talk to her about running down the stairs?”

 

Jon set his daughter down on a chair and turned to her. “Yes Dany, I gave her a very stern talking to,” he said in an obvious lie.

 

Dany stepped towards Jon, “I’ve known you for a very long time Jon Snow. You have many talents, lying is not one of them,” she said before giving him a kiss.

 

“Ew mother, you promised you wouldn’t kiss father in front of me anymore!”

 

Both her mother and father laughed, “Your children will be saying the same thing one day.”

 

Aryanna gave and over exaggerated grimace and rose up from the table and moved between them. “What time will Auntie Sansa be arriving tomorrow?”

 

“In the evening,” Jon said. Aryanna pouted that she would have to wait that long. She loved when Auntie Sansa was around because that meant that she would cover up whatever Aryanna did and she could do whatever she wanted. Not that she would do anything bad just certain things that her parents may disapprove of. “Did you take Drogon out for a ride today?” Jon asked Dany.

 

“I did, he gets faster by the day.”

 

“Can I have a ride soon?” Aryanna pleaded with her big eyes.

 

“That’s why mother took Drogon out for a ride today,” Jon said as he knelt down. “So that he didn’t have too much energy when you went for a ride.”

 

Her eyes went wide as she looked to her mother for confirmation and she just smiled and nodded. Aryanna quickly ran to grab her cloak and waited by the door for her mother and father to get ready. Once they were out the door Aryanna was running far ahead of her parents to where she knew Drogon loved to rest.

 

Once Ayranna was big enough she vowed that she would ride Drogon everyday and that this was just the first of many rides to be had in the future.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this. I'm still really new to writing and still learning so hopefully you enjoyed this story enough. I have another Game of Thrones fic on here that takes place after the canon season 8 so you can check that out if you want. Look forward to writing more in the future and getting better with each story.


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